Lead Me to Your Door
by Jessymama
Summary: Extreme AU! Jack gets the shock of his life after reading a story that will change everything. Chapter 22 note: Here's the last chapter Epilogue: Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did.
1. Chapter 1

Childress, Texas

June 13, 2000

Jack Twist slowly closed the book and let it drop to the hard wood floor at his feet. He sat on the edge of the bed he'd shared with his wife Lureen for thirty-four years, sat and stared out the window that looked over the western slope of his lawn. His land stretched out for several hundred yards and was lined with pecan and peach trees. It was a bigger house than they had once lived in, more land, more responsibilities. They had moved out of their first house (certainly not small by any standards) after his father-in-law L.D. had passed on. They'd been living in their lovely little ranch house now for about fourteen years. It seemed like they'd been living there forever.

Jack looked away from the window, cutting off the view that was distracting him, and let his mind try and return to the story he'd just read. He couldn't understand what'd just happened, what he'd just been apart of. It seemed impossible really. Jack leaned forward and rubbed roughly at his face with his hands, feeling the stubble that had been neglected that morning and knowing that he had to get up and get ready for that evening before Lureen came home from the office. They had a dinner meeting they were going to that night, a get together of the two top distributors in northern Texas: Newsome Farm Equipment and McGuire Tractor and Farming Inc. The dinner was supposed to be a friendly get together, but he and Lureen both knew that they were damn close to getting ol' man McGuire to merge his company with theirs.

Over the years, Newsome Farm Equipment had grown even larger and had begun to buy out other, lesser companies. They now had four dealerships throughout the panhandle and had their sites on merging with the oldest tractor sales company outside of Amarillo. McGuire was a stubborn son of a bitch, though, not much unlike L.D. Newsome, and they knew that he would never let himself be bought out. The only hope they had was of merging, and even accomplishing that would take a lot of sweet talking and schmoozing, something that Jack wasn't that bad at.

Jack had come a long way from his old salesman post that L.D. had kept him on. The "Stud Duck" as he liked to call himself, never did like Jack, and he never let him forget that. Over the years, after L.D. had retired and left the business to Lureen, Jack had seen to it that he got his promotion, and some promotion it was. He appointed himself partner (he figured he had the right since he was Lureen's husband after all) and had spent several years successfully running the business with her. Eventually he'd gotten tired of the corporate ladder though, and had started spending more and more time away from the office and more and more time at home or out with his granddaughter, Eliza. Leave the hard business deals to his wife and his son Bobby, who was slowly working his way into his father's shoes as partner.

Jack let his eyes wander back to the window. He gazed out across the yard to the line of trees and noticed that their shadows were slowly elongating. He figured it was about 4:30 and Lureen would be home in about an hour. She'd be mad as hell if he wasn't all ready to go charm that old bastard McGuire, but he just couldn't get his body to move. His legs were weak and he still couldn't get his brain to function properly. What he just read was…

"_Impossible. No fuckin' way. No way in hell. How could anyone possible know…"_ Jack shook his head. He couldn't think on it right now. He couldn't think on it and yet how could he stop himself from thinking on it? He felt like his world had suddenly been flipped violently off its axis and while he was frantically trying to collect everything that had been scattered in the whirl, he'd been sucker punched in the stomach. He leaned down farther and reached again for the book that had caused him so much trouble.

"_Hell, if'n I'd known this was gonna happen I never woulda picked it up in the first place."_

He'd been at the Wal-Mart on Avenue F in the center of Childress looking for a storybook for Eliza. Granted, Wal-Mart wasn't the best place to go for good reading, but the nearest Borders was several miles outside of town, and since she was only nine he figured that she wouldn't be too choosy. He had never shopped for a book for someone other than himself, but she was beginning to read more on her own and he knew she'd appreciate something thoughtful from her Pop.

He was wandering down the isles, trying to figure out if she would prefer a Goosebumps book where " _you_ choose the fate of the characters!" or a Magic School Bus story. He wasn't sure if she would like learning about the planets outside of school, so he settled on the scary book and began to make his way back to the check out counter. He stopped when he passed the new release section. He figured that since he was there, he might pick up something to keep him interested before he went to bed at night. He had never been much of a reader, but had taken up the habit of reading before he went to sleep because heaven knew he wasn't gonna to get anything from Lureen. They made great business partners, and sure they still shared the same bed, but any passion that had remained between them had burned out long before. Somehow it didn't bother Jack that much because he'd never been too much of a sexual person. Sure he loved a good ol' time in the sack, especially when he was young, but he had never had any sort of unquenchable thirst for the thrills of sex, at least not with Lureen. Sometimes he thought this was because he'd just never met the right person. There were times early in his marriage that he felt like there was some deep passion in him that was just fussing to be released, but eventually it would die back down, and over time those feelings just stopped. So he replaced any sort of sexual excitement that could have been had before bed with the excitement of a good book. He certainly did appreciate a good western and could definitely sink his teeth into a mystery here and there. So he'd stopped to see what was new and if anything struck his attention. He was about to move on, not seeing anything that intrigued him, when he noticed on the bottom shelf a paper back that had the picture of a horse at a stream on its cover. He squatted down, silently cursing his bad knees and hip, to get a better look.

_Close Range: Wyoming Stories by Annie Proulx._

Jack picked it up, ran his hand over the smooth spine, and then flipped it over. He scanned the description on the back, skipping the reviews, and stood again with it firmly in hand, the Goosebumps story tucked under his other arm.

So he'd headed back to his house, feeling pretty good about what he'd bought for himself and for his granddaughter. He walked into the house, set his keys on the marble island in the kitchen and made a mental note of the time. 3 o'clock. If he gave himself at least an hour to get ready, he could have nearly two hours to read. He walked to the refrigerator, got a bottle of water from inside and then made his way to his bedroom. It was a pretty rustic room with a private stone fireplace and one wall made to look like a log cabin.

He kicked of his shoes, settled back on the bed, and began to flip through the book. He told himself the reason it had caught his attention was because they were Wyoming stories and he _did_ come from Wyoming. Born and raised, until he fled his home in Lightening Flat to try and make a life for himself on the rodeo circuit. Coincidentally, the first story he started reading was about a young guy that wanted to be a bull rider. It caught his attention well enough and he read it straight through. When he was done, he set the book down, stretched and then padded across the floor to take a piss. He washed his hands, mentally patting himself on the back for remembering, and then came back and sat on the edge of the bed. He figured he had time to read one more. He flipped to the back of the book (since they were separate stories he didn't feel a need to read the whole book straight through) and came to the title, "Brokeback Mountain." It struck him in a funny way, made his stomach feel a little fluttery and made his breath hitch in his throat. He shook it off, took a deep breath, and began to read.

"_Ennis Del Mar wakes before five, wind rocking the trailer, hissing in around the aluminum door and window frames. The shirts hanging on a nail shudder slightly in the draft…"_

And here he was. Dumb struck. Sitting on the side of the bed with his mouth hanging open like he was twelve and his mother had just caught him with his dick in his hand. It didn't seem possible, but there it was just as plain as day on printed-paper for the whole world to see. It was his life, his life in hard black type set against rough white paper. His life laid out for him to read like it was all so simple. His life. _His life_ that apparently had been written by some woman he'd never heard of before. How could this be possible? How could real life be written as fiction, and how could she know so much about him? This woman, who ever she was, had his parents down to a "T" and she knew all about his attempts in the rodeo and how he met Lureen. There was only one thing that wasn't right. He had never been anywhere named Brokeback Mountain, and he had _never _known anyone named Ennis Del Mar.

"_What the fuck is this? Some kind of joke? Who the hell is this Annie Proulx and more importantly, what the fuck did she do with my life? Some queer? In love with a man? Killed by gay haters on the side of the road somewhere in Childress?"_

He knew that wasn't right. He _knew_ that. But aside from that big gaping "but", he had just read the story of his life in a book of _fictional stories_! He didn't know what the hell was going on, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know. Unfortunately, Jack Twist was an extremely curious man and he knew deep in his heart that he would not be able to just let this slip past. He had to find some sort of answer to what was going on. He had to talk to the author, this Annie Proulx, and he had to find out if there was a real Ennis Del Mar. And if there was…what then? What did that mean?

Jack placed the book inside his "private drawer" on the bedside table. He let his hand rest for a minute on the cover and then abruptly slammed the drawer shut. Finally, he gained the strength to stand.

"Nothing I can do about it now, anyhow." He said to no one in particular and made his way into the bathroom to get ready for dinner.


	2. Chapter 2

"Well Marla, he may be ma son, but I certainly have no control over 'im anymore. Ya know how these dinner meetin's go sometimes, people get ta drinkin' and well, Bobby jus' had a few too many. I'm sure this isn't the firs' time he's come home drunk."

Jack pulled their new Ford Excursion into the long paved drive. It was late now, past midnight and Lureen was on her cell phone with Marla, Bobby's wife. She was upset because apparently Bobby had come home later than normal and drunk as a skunk. The meeting had gone well, one more step closer to closing the deal with McGuire, and all present had decided to have a few drinks with dessert. Bobby, who took after his father in more ways than one (though he was really his mother's son), had gotten a little carried away, and Jack had had to call a cab to come pick him up and take him home. Bobby's house was in the opposite direction of his and Lureen's, and sine Jack'd had a few himself, he didn't trust himself to make the long trek to Bobby's and then back.

He pulled the SUV into the large garage and put it in park. He turned in his seat to give Lureen the "please get off the phone so we can go inside look" but apparently she didn't notice.

"If ya just leave him be, he'll be fine in the mornin'." Pause. "Well leave him on the couch then! God knows all the times Jack's come home and passed out. You'd never see me draggin' his sorry bee-hind to bed. Just leave him where he is and give him some aspirin in the mornin'. All right? Okay. Uh huh. Bye."

Lureen turned off her cell phone and opened the passenger door. She paused to look back at Jack.

"Well what the hell'r you doin' just sittin' there? Do I have to lead you everywhere? You'd think I was a damn mother duck, the way you follow me around sometimes." She grabbed her purse and slammed the door.

Jack rolled his eyes and opened his own door.

"Well fuck you very much too." He muttered under his breath. He followed the sound of her clicking high heels into the house.

He was getting' real tired of the way Lureen had been treatin' him lately. It seemed the older she got the bitchier she got. She was starting to remind him of her father L.D. and God save him if she ever fully converted.

He walked through the kitchen, where Lureen was busy turning off lights, went into the bedroom, and sat on his side of the bed as usual. He began to undress and shook his head. Truth was, Lureen hadn't always been like this. Once she had been a fiery little barrel racer in the rodeo. First time he met her, she'd been sittin' a top her racing horse, wearing the brightest red western style shirt and cowboy hat. Bright and red as fire, just like her laugh. She'd chatted his ear off and waggled her hips in front of him, just as fine as she pleased. How times had changed. How _he_ had changed. He hadn't always been so resigned, so old. When he was young he had been able to charm the pants off of anyone he pleased, always rearin' to go, always full of energy, talkin' like it would save his life. He'd liked that about himself. Sure he was still a charmer, and he still had fairly good looks; strong features, salt and pepper hair, and eyes as blue as the day he was born, but for the past few years he'd felt subdued. He'd felt…unfulfilled. Maybe he was having a mid life crisis. But weren't those supposed to come when you were actually at the middle of your life? Wasn't fifty-six a little old for that?

Jack got up, clad in only his boxers and undershirt, and headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He chuckled a little to himself. Hell, he'd been having a mid-life crisis since he'd been married to Lureen. Seemed like that woman had sucked all the energy he'd had right out of him. He grabbed his toothbrush from the ceramic cup on the sink and squeezed a little Crest onto it. He stole a glance at Lureen who was taking her time putting her jewelry away. She had already taken off her make up and her face looked washed out and old. Her frown line was pronounced because she was concentrating on arranging her earrings and her lips were puckered a little. She caught his glance.

"What're you lookin' at?" She gave him a cold glare and then returned to her prized diamonds.

Jack stuck the brush in his mouth and mumbled a quiet "nothing" before turning away from her. He watched himself in the mirror as he brushed. He looked deep into his blue, removed eyes. He didn't like who he'd become. He didn't like the man who was staring back at him. It was the face of an unhappy man, a man that didn't know where his life had gone to shit.

He finished brushing and spat out the toothpaste. He gave one more look in Lureen's direction and then headed back to bed. He pulled back the sheets and crawled in, tired back and hip groaning with the effort. He leaned back and closed his eyes. How had he let himself get to this point? Where did that youthful, energetic boy from thirty years ago get to? What had made him go into hiding?

His thoughts suddenly drifted back to the story. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. _That_ story. The story that had him so incredibly summed up and so incredibly wrong at the same time. At least the story's version of Jack had happiness some times. He rolled over and stared at the closed drawer that held the bizarre book inside. At least that version of him had found love.

_"Ennis Del Mar…I wonder what it would be like to kiss a man?"_

Jack blinked. Where the hell had that thought come from? He flipped back over and propped himself up with his elbows. That sure had been a left fielder. Surely it was just because of what he'd read earlier, surely he was just tired and confused, and upset. Surely he wasn't actually thinking about…

_"Woah, woah, woah, there. Slow down. Don't let yerself get all excited now. That didn't mean nothin'. Just…a thought. A thought brought on by the story. Brought on by Brokeback Mountain."_

Brokeback Mountain. Just thinking those words made him get a little excited. Made something stir down below.

_"Course, thoughts can't kill nobody…"_ Jack let his hand drift slightly south to the elastic of his boxer shorts. He closed his eyes and relaxed his body.

"Jack can you check if I closed the garage door?"

Jack yanked his hand out from under the covers and sat up.

"Sorry?" He gave Lureen his best sleepy smile. She sat on the bed, back to him, and brushed her bleach blonde hair into a ponytail.

"Jack, I swear, you never listen to a word I say." She tossed her hairbrush onto the nightstand in disgust. "Will you jus' go and check if I closed the garage door? I don't think I did when I was turnin' off all the lights."

Jack threw his covers off and got out of bed, anxious to get away from his wife, and anxious to get away from what he had just been about to do.

He left their bedroom and trekked down the hall and through the kitchen. All the lights were off and the moon wasn't out that night, so Jack didn't notice one of the stools that lined the kitchen counter was jutting out. He stubbed his toe hard against the cold metal.

"Goddamnit!" He cried and grabbed at his foot. He jumped around on one foot for a few seconds before the pain died back down and then walked the rest of the way to the utility room. He opened the door to the garage and flipped on the light. It was indeed closed. He turned the light off and wandered back into the kitchen.

He wasn't ready to return to bed, so he switched on the light that hung above the kitchen sink and got himself a glass out of the dishwasher. After checking to make sure the glass was clean, he turned on the faucet and filled it with water. He leaned on the counter by the sink and gazed out the window into the blackness. He turned off the light so he could see more than his own reflection and his thoughts immediately returned to Brokeback Mountain. He sighed.

_"Ol' Brokeback's got us good."_

He mused on the line that the book version of him had said. Well that was _one_ thing that was true about both versions. Brokeback did have him good. It had him by the balls. In just the few hours since reading the short story, his mind had been completely preoccupied by thoughts of it. He'd been barely present at the business dinner, had smiled when he'd had to and had told a funny story or two. It had all been scripted, something he could have followed even if he'd been getting his teeth drilled. But all the while his mind had been away, it had been on Brokeback Mountain, off with some man he'd never met in a place he'd never been. The whole thing was gettin' out of hand, but he couldn't stop the feeling he had that everything was starting to change. He felt like the life he'd known was hanging on by a very fine thread.

He poured the rest of the water out, placed the glass in the sink, and headed back to his bedroom. He figured by now Lureen would be asleep and he would be free to do…whatever he wanted. Not that he wanted to do anything but go straight to sleep. Not that he wanted to think about another man touching his bare skin, kissing a line down his chest to his stomach, making his way…

_"Jack, get a hold of yerself! These are crazy thoughts! These are queer thoughts. These ain't the sort of thoughts that you should be having. You ain't no queer, remember?"_

His inner dialogue was interrupted when he got back to his bedroom and saw that Lureen was still wide-awake. She was sitting up in bed looking over some figures from the previous week's sales. She had reading glasses pushed down low on her nose. Jack's heart immediately sunk a little. He hesitated for a brief moment and then continued to his side of the bed and crawled back under the covers.

"So was the garage closed?" Lureen didn't take her eyes off the papers she had in front of her.

"What?" Jack had his back to her and was trying to block out the light from her nightlight.

She sighed. "The garage. After being gone for so long, you did remember to check, didn't you?"

Jack gave himself a mental slap in the face. He'd forgotten that's what he'd been sent to check on in the first place.

"Yeah it was closed." He kept his answer brief hoping that that would be all and he could just get on to sleep and forget about the whole day. Lureen wasn't having it though.

"So what did you get up to, today?" She had gotten in the habit of asking about Jack's daytime activities before they went to bed. It wasn't that she was really interested, it was more her attempt to keep up appearances that their relationship hadn't been completely tossed out to the pigs. Married couples talked about their day together, she always told Jack, and she intended to not let that get away from them no matter how far apart they drifted.

Jack sighed and rolled onto his back so he could talk but still keep his eyes away from hers.

"Well, I had lunch with Jeremy Kilburn, you know from the golf club, and we had a pretty good time. He talked the whole while about how he had gotten his game down by about four strokes."

"That's nice. You should go out more often with yer golf buddies. They're always invitin' ya to go out with 'em, but y'always seem to give 'em some excuse."

Jack rolled his eyes. He always gave them excuses because he fuckin' _hated_ golf. Lureen was the one that said he should play. She'd gotten him a membership at the golf club and practically forced him to go. She was always tellin' him that golf was a sport that civilized businessmen played and that meant he would take part even if it _did_ make him want to pull his hair out. Jack hadn't told her that what it _actually_ made him want to do was ram a club up someone's ass. Golf was definitely not Jack Twist. Jack Twist was a cowboy; he used to ride bulls! He didn't want to ride around in a little cart with a bunch of other guys while they talked about the stock market and drank brandy.

He realized that Lureen was waiting for him to continue.

"Anyway, then I went to Wal-Mart to buy a book for Eliza. Know how she's been readin' lately. An' that's about it."

"Did ya pick up anythin' for yerself?"

Jack stopped breathing. Why would she ask that? Had she snooped around in his drawer? Had she found the book? Had she read it?

_"Hold on. Yer being paranoid, Jack. When would she have found time to read it, and why should she care if you have a book in your drawer? And why are you acting like it's some kind of sin or somethin'? It's just a book. Just a story. Innocent enough."_

Jack cleared his throat. Felt like his heart had lodged itself there.

"Uh, no. Why d'ya ask?"

Lureen wasn't even looking at him. She was still running figures through her head and only half listening to what he was saying.

"Well, I know how ya like to read before you go to bed, and I'd noticed that ya hadn't had a book lately. Figured you might've picked up somethin' new."

Jack let out shuddering breath. He let himself relax back into the bed. He'd felt like he'd just been cornered by a grizzly.

"I didn't see anythin' that caught my attention."

Lureen put the papers down on the nightstand and turned off the light. She worked herself down under the blankets and turned her back to him.

"I'm sure you'll find something that'll interest you. I heard there's a new Anne Rule crime novel out. I think Grace-Anne said she had a copy the other day. Maybe I can ask to borrow it from her."

Jack kept on starring at the ceiling. "Well sure. If'n Grace-Anne ain't readin' it or nothin'. Don't want to interrupt her enjoyment of such fine literature."

Jack might has well have been talking to a wall because Lureen's breathing had already slowed and he knew she was asleep. Jack didn't feel a bit sleepy anymore. Too many things on his mind. Some troubling, some strangely pleasant.

* * *

Jack had spent the morning at work. He had cut down his time in the office to about three or four mornings a week. He went in, made himself seem useful, made a few phone calls, and listened to frantic managers from other dealerships rant about how the latest shipment of row crop units hadn't arrived yet. He was good at calming people down, used his smooth salesman voice and reassured them that it would be there by the time they needed it. It was like calming a spooked horse, you rubbed their neck and smoothed down their mane while whispering calmly into their ear. Easy stuff. The tough thing that he'd been overseeing for the last couple of years was their new website. They'd hired some technical guys that called themselves "webmasters" to take care of all the really complex stuff and to keep the site running, but for some reason Lureen had seen to it to appoint Jack as the overseer. He figured it was just because she didn't want to handle it herself. Jack mostly left it to a couple of public relations people but he still had to be the man at the top, the one that made sure everything was okay. Everyone had to run things by the boss before they could put it online, and that just meant more headaches for Jack. Lately, things had been under control, and he'd only been needed when there were going to be big announcements or changes.

This morning though, he didn't really have much to do. He could have stayed home again, but he hadn't wanted to be alone in the house with the book shut up in his drawer. So he'd come to work. At least it gave him something to preoccupy himself with. In a couple of days Eliza would be back from Girl Scout camp and he would take her out for the day and give her the Goosebumps book he bought her. He smiled at the thought. Eliza was a bright star in his day-to-day gloomy existence. She was so full of life. Even though she was just a little girl, Jack could see the wild energy waiting to bust forth in her big blue eyes (blue eyes had become a Twist family feature, it seemed.), energy that reminded him so much of the boy he had once been. He loved his little girl like nothing else. She was the child he had never had because Bobby had turned out much like Lureen. He was a hardheaded businessman, spoiled by the good life. But Eliza, well, Jack had no idea where she had gotten her spirit.

"_Certainly not from her Daddy." _

Maybe it was true that genes skipped a generation.

So Jack had sat in his office twiddling his thumbs for a while and sharpening pencils. He'd taken one phone call that hadn't been too terribly urgent and then he'd gotten up to pour himself a cup of coffee. Lureen's secretary, Grace-Anne, stopped him on the way back to his office.

"So I hear that yer an Anne Rule fan." She had stopped what she was doing at her desk and was sitting up in her computer chair eagerly awaiting Jack's response. She was a cute little thing, probably in her early thirties, short auburn hair, and a round face with deep set brown eyes and freckles across her nose. Jack always thought she was a little sweet on him and the idea usually brought out the ol' devilish charmer in him. This morning though, Jack didn't feel much in the mood to flirt, so he kept his responses short and sweet.

"Yeah, I've read a couple of her books. Pretty good stuff." He sipped from his coffee mug. Grace-Anne's eyes sparkled.

"Well, I could lend you her new book, but I left it at ma house. Will ya be in the office tomorrow?"

Jack took notice of how her hand was casually playing with the necklace that hung around her neck. His eyes were drawn to the top of her cleavage where she had a small birthmark. He frowned.

"Well, I don't know. I might. I think I may have promised to go play golf with Bill and Marty." Liar.

Grace-Anne smiled softly. "Well maybe, you could swing by my place later tonight and pick it up. You know my address don't you?"

Jack stared at her. Was she offering what he thought she was? After all the years of flirting and beatin' around the bush, she finally came out and invited him over? He ran his tongue over his lip, something he did when he was thinking. He took another sip of coffee.

"Ya know Grace-Anne, it's mighty kind of you to offer, but I actually just picked up a book for myself yesterday at the Wal-Mart. It's pretty interestin'. S'got me sittin' on the edge of ma seat. But maybe you can bring that new book in for me when I finish it."

Jack left it at that, hoped she'd got the message and walked back to his office.

* * *

_"What the fuck're you doing, Twist? Just let it be. Just forget about it. Don't go nosing where you got no business."_

Jack let this thought settle itself in his brain. Like hell it was his business! It was his life and he wasn't going to just let the opportunity pass without finding out some answers.

When he'd gotten back to his office he'd immediately gone on-line and tried to find out how he could get in contact with Annie Proulx. He couldn't remember the book's publishing company, so he looked it up on Scribner. He looked that up next, but it did no good, because he couldn't find anything more about Annie Proulx than a brief biography. He _did_ find out, however, that Brokeback Mountain had been published in the New Yorker. He wasn't so sure he liked the idea of that.

_"All them people knowing yer business? That don't sound too pleasant."_

Jack had to remind himself that he didn't know anyone in New York and that surely no one _he_ knew read the New Yorker.

_"How many people coulda read the story anyway? Don't seem like somethin' that would become a hit and get movie rights or anythin'."_

He decided to switch his search to the author herself. He wasn't so good at all this Internet stuff. He felt like a newborn colt trying to stand up and walk around, all shaky and pathetic. He worked slowly and starring at the screen made his eyes hurt after while.

Finally he found it. It was on the author's website. She said that people could contact her through her agent.

_Liz Darhansoff of Darhansoff, Verrill, and Feldman._

Jack copied down the phone number on a scrap of paper and shoved it into his pants' pocket. He checked his watch, saw it was past eleven and shut down his computer. He gathered his stuff, put his black Stetson back on his head and said his goodbyes to people in the office and to Lureen.

"You goin' home then?" She asked, not taking her eyes off her computer screen, blonde hair perfectly held in place even as the fan in the corner swept across the room.

Jack was leaning in her office door, sports coat tucked in his arm.

"Yeah. I gotta couple of things I'm goin' ta take care of. I'll see ya later tonight."

Lureen looked up from what she was doing at his last comment.

"Actually, I was goin' ta have dinner with some people from the Vernon dealership. They came inta town las' night, and I thought tonight would be a good time to take 'em out. You know, Francis and Sharon, and um…James."

Jack shrugged. "D'ya want me ta come? I can, I don't got much to do…"

"No, no. You do what you want. I'll be fine. It's just a little get together anyway, I've been promising that I'd take them out for a drink for a while now, anyway. I'll see you later, but I probably won't be home till after eleven."

Jack nodded and left, slightly taken aback. Usually Lureen forced him to come to all sorts of business related things. It was slightly unusual for her to want to go alone. He shrugged to himself again and left the office, secretly itching to get home so he could make his call.

* * *

Jack stared at the phone. His hands were shaking. He was nervous as hell, but even more curious and he had to know what was going on. He picked up the receiver and dialed the number. There were several clicks and rings, long distance switching over, and then a distant female voice answered the phone.

"Darhansoff, Verill, and Feldman. Liz Darhansoff's office, how may I help you?"

Jack felt like he'd just swallowed a mouthful of cotton. His tongue was dry and sticking to the roof of his mouth. Finally he swallowed and retrieved his voice.

"G'Day, I'd like ta speak ta Liz Darhansoff, please."

"May I ask who's calling?" Her voice was cold and detached.

"Yes, ma name's Jack Twist."

"Hold one minute."

Jack let out a shaky breath as he was put on hold and music began to play. He wrung his hands and then wiped his palms on his jeans because he was sweating like a pig. He tried not to think too much about what he was doing and just wait patiently for Annie's agent to answer. The music turned off abruptly.

"Mr. Twist?"

"Yes, I'm here."

"I'm sorry, but Mrs. Darhansoff is quite busy at the moment. She said she could spare a minute to speak with you if you would like, though."

"Yes, ma'am, that'd be fine."

The music clicked back over and he was left to his thoughts. He wasn't waiting for very long this time, because no even a minute had past when another voice, brighter and more feminine than the other, came on the line.

"Hello, Mr. Twist? What can I do for you?"

"Call me Jack. I wanted to know if you could get me in contact with Annie Proulx, or tell me how to get in touch with her. I need to speak with her 'bout somethin' real important." There was silence on the other end of the line momentarily.

"What is it you would like to speak with her about? You know she's a very busy woman, Mr. Twist."

"Jack, please. Well…" he sucked in a deep breath. "I need to speak with her 'bout one of the stories she just published—"

"Brokeback Mountain?"

Jack was shocked. "Yes ma'am, how'd you know?"

"Just a guess."

"Well you see, ma'am, I…well…the story she wrote was about me." He let the words rush out of his mouth, trying to ignore how crazy it all sounded. There was another pause on the other line.

"I assure you sir, that everything Mrs. Proulx writes is purely fictitious and that any resemblance to real persons or places is coincidental." Jack noticed that she pronounced the author's name like "Proo". Seemed unimportant, but knowing he'd pronounced it wrong made him feel even more stupid. He steeled himself and let salesman Jack take over.

"I understand, ma'am. But I don't think you do. This was written about _me._ Accept for the actual…well, queer part."

The woman sighed. "Sir, I assure you that it is pure coincidence. And I also assure you that you are not the only person named Jack Twist."

"Well mayhap not, but I think I _am_ the only Jack Twist with parents up in Lightening Flat, Wyoming and a wife named Lureen."

"I'm sure Mrs. Proulx would be very pleased to hear that she has touched one of her readers on such a personal level, Mr. Twist, and I would be happy to tell her that, but unfortunately I am very busy at the moment and there's not much else I can do for you."

Jack could tell she was starting to lose her patience and interest, and he began to panic. He gave it one more shot.

"Listen. Can you please jus' tell me how I can speak with Miss Proulx herself? If I just had a few minutes to explain…"

"Thank you for calling, Mr. Twist. If you have any more questions, you can check out Annie's website on line or you can visit Scribner's. Thank you again for calling, have a nice day."

The line went dead. Jack was left holding the phone in his hand, sitting at the kitchen table. That hadn't gone like he'd imagined it. Then again, nothing in the past twenty-four hours had. He let the receiver fall back on its cradle and stared down at his hands. None of his questions answered, and all of them still burning inside.


	3. Chapter 3

Jack Twist turned his black F-150 down Bella Vista Dr. The SUV they had was really Lureen's, and she only let him drive it out when they went to business functions together. 'Wanna make a good impression,' she was always telling him. 'If we show up in that truck o' yers we'll look like a couple a rednecks, fer sure.' Jack would just stay quiet when ever she got preachy, never saying anything about how the only people in Childress _were_ rednecks and that he was sure they wouldn't look twice if they'd drove up in a goddamn mobile home. It was easier to just keep his mouth shut, keep the peace. That's what he'd always done with L.D. Sure there were times when he'd wanted to throttle that son of a bitch, but it was just simpler to duck his head, say 'Sure thing, L.D.' and get on with it. Jack smirked at the thought of telling his late father-in-law to shut the hell up and looked at himself in his side mirror. He loved his truck. It suited him. Let Lureen keep her damn fancy SUV. All Jack Twist needed was a good reliable pick up to keep him happy. It didn't hurt, though, that his F-150 was the newest model.

Jack checked his watch. It was five till noon. He smiled.

_"Perfect timing, Twist. Ya told 'er you'd be here at noon and y kept yer word."_

His mother had always told him that being on time meant being five minutes early. Jack never listened to much of what his parents told him when he was a boy, though. He'd been known to be late everywhere he went, was always getting a beating for it from his daddy. Young Jack just never had anywhere he cared to rush to.

Jack sighed, relaxed his shoulders, and tried to let a little of that young man return. He propped his arm out his open window and whistled softly to himself.

He was on his way to pick up his granddaughter, Eliza. She'd gotten back from Girl Scout camp the night before, only been gone for three days because she was still too young to stay for an extended time. Marla had called the house last night because Eliza had been eager to talk to her Pop. She'd wanted to have a "Poppa day", what she'd started calling the days that she spent entirely with Jack. He'd smiled at the excitement in her voice, and told her that he'd be there to pick her up the next day at noon. Told her he'd take her out to lunch and then whatever she wanted to do after that.

He'd actually been planning to stop into the office again; he'd been coming in every morning since Tuesday, something unusual for Jack these days. He'd told himself he was just trying to be a good business man, just trying to help out and keep things running, not allowing himself to think on how Newsome Farm equipment had been running pretty smoothly without him for about two years, not admitting that the real reason he'd been scampering out of the house like a spooked horse everyday was because when he was alone his thoughts drifted to a certain book laying in the drawer by his bed.

Jack looked at the book that he had wrapped for Eliza. It was sitting next to him on the passenger seat. He was excited to give it to her. Couldn't wait for her surprise. He knew her parents never gave her many books. Certainly had toys though, enough to make the prince of England blush, but what Eliza'd been real interested in lately was reading. She'd learned easy enough at school, and since summer started and she was faced with becoming a fourth grader in the fall, she just couldn't get enough "chapter books". She always got a real proud look on her face when she'd talk to Jack about the latest book she'd read, she'd fill him in on all the details of the story, which teacher was a monster this time or what the Baby Sitters Club was getting up to, and all the while Jack would nod his head and ask, 'That so?' like it was the most interesting thing he'd heard. Wasn't much else to interest him now, so why not give his little gal his full attention? Certainly didn't get enough from her daddy.

He pulled up to the quiet brick house that sat at 300 Bella Vista. It was charming enough, not anywhere as big as Jack and Lureen's house outside of town, but it was comfortable. The side of the house was lined with big sprawling oak trees and there was a pool in the back.

Jack turned off the ignition of his truck and got out. He tilted his hat back on his head; he'd picked out a light gray Stetson for the day (he still believed that the best and only brand of hat to buy was a Stetson), and made his way up to the dark brown front door.

Marla opened the door before he had a chance to ring the bell.

"Hey there Jack. I heard you drive up. Come in." She stood back and opened the door wide, inviting him into the yellow hall. He'd never really liked their yellow wallpaper, but it was their business and he certainly wasn't going to start telling his daughter-in-law how to decorate her house.

She smiled at him once he was all the way in, showed her big white teeth. He nodded his head in return.

"Come on, Liza's in the family room playin' with her Nintendo."

He followed the small-framed woman down the hall and through the kitchen. She was only about 5'3" but she had long arms and a mouth that was a little too big for her face. He hair was long and wavy brown, kept natural Jack had always noticed, and she usually wore a pair of fitted jeans and a tee shirt. She was a real sweet woman, Jack had always liked her, and she took good care of Eliza. Showed her the love and attention that sometimes Bobby didn't have time to. Jack'd always wondered how Bobby had ended up with such a little sweet thing like Marla. Weren't boys usually out to marry someone like their mother? Jack chuckled slightly to himself at that idea. If Bobby had married someone like Lureen they would have pecked each other to death like two roosters fightin' over who got to run the coop. Bobby was just as hard headed and set in his ways as his mama, and anyone less good-natured than Marla wouldn't have been able to stand living with him.

_"I s'pose opposites really do attract. Not so sure where that rule fits in with me n' Lureen, though. Not like there's much attraction there."_

Jack's thoughts were interrupted by a loud squeal and then his little girl was up off the floor and hugging Jack, even though she only came up to his waist. He laughed loudly and rubbed his hand over the top of her head. Her silky hair feeling like heaven under his worn fingers. He stepped back and picked her up so that he could look her straight in the face.

"Well how's my little girl doin', then? Didn't get bit by no rattlers at camp?"

Eliza just laughed and shook her head. Jack put on his best "shocked face".

"Yer kiddin' me. All them days away in the middle a' nowhere, and ya didn't even see a rattlesnake? What kind of camp was this?"

Eliza laughed again. "Poppa! You didn't even let me finish!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't know ya was gonna keep goin'. I'll button my lip." Jack raised his free hand up to his mouth and mimed buttoning his mouth closed.

"I didn't get any snake bites from any rattlers, but I did see one. Wednesday, when we were out fer our afternoon hike, Kelly-Ann Patterson heard one in the bushes and our counselor had to call the wild life ranger to come and get it outta our way!"

"Did she now? Well tell me this, when the ranger pulled the snake out from the bush, were you scared?"

Eliza let her jaw drop. "Scared? Me? No way! I may be a girl, but I'm not a sissy! I thought it was cool, but Kelly-Ann nearly fainted, we practically had to carry her the rest a' the way back ta camp."

Jack laughed, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and then set her down. Marla stood to the side, arms crossed, a big smile plastered across her face. Jack looked back down at Eliza.

"So are ya ready ta go or what? I've been here already fer…" Jack checked his watch dramatically, "'bout four minutes. Time's money girl, I can't wait all day!" He ran his hand over the top of her head again and then mussed her hair.

"Hey!" She said, trying to smooth her hair out flat again.

"Hay is for horses." Jack never got tired of using that old line on her. She made it pretty easy for him, though, because lately 'hey' seemed to be a part of her regular vocabulary.

She rolled her eyes and said, "Ha, ha. Very funny Poppa." She ran back into the living room to shut off her video game and put it back in the cabinet below the TV. Marla followed her into the room, Jack trailing behind.

"Now you remember ta take yer asthma inhaler and a sweater in case it gets cool out." She was watching her daughter with weary interest.

"I will. Doubt it's gonna get too chilly, though. It's _June_ after all."

"You just watch yer mouth now, young lady. Don't wanna hear you start smartin' off to yer parents before you're even a teenager."

Jack rested his hand on Marla's shoulder. "Don't worry, Marla. I'll make sure she puts on her sweater if it does get chilly."

Marla turned her worried gaze to Jack.

"All right. I just worry about her, ya know? Ever since she had that real bad lung infection while back, she's been having pretty bad attacks."

Jack looked past the small woman, to the even smaller child still putting away her toys. She'd been born with a bad case of asthma, weak lungs. The doctors said it may have been because Bobby had still been smoking when Marla was pregnant. Bobby'd had some serious guilt over that, and had quit soon after. Unfortunately the damage had already been done. Eliza had been a pretty sickly child, in and out of the emergency room because of late night asthma attacks. The previous December, she'd gotten real bad off. Had a fever over 104ºF. They'd rushed her to the emergency room and tried to get her hooked up to an I.V., but her veins had collapsed. It had been a real scary time. His little girl had almost died. Ever since, Marla had been even more protective of her than she had been before. It took nearly two weeks of convincing her that three nights at Girl Scout camp wouldn't kill the girl. Jack had taken her aside and told her real calm like that keepin' her isolated and tryin' to stop her from doing what other kids did was harming her more than hurting her. She was still able to play and do things that other kids could, she just had to be more careful, and Eliza was old enough now to be able to judge when to slow down and use her inhaler when she needed.

Eliza tugged at Jack's shirtsleeve and he looked down to see that she had her sweater over her arm and her little backpack over her shoulder.

"I thought you said time was money? What're ya doing just standin' there like a scarecrow? Let's go!"

Jack let his smile return to his lips, all bad memories forgotten. He clapped his hands together.

"All right! Let's get a move on, then!" He headed back through the hall and to the front door singing the theme from "Rawhide" in a loud boisterous voice. Eliza just giggled, keeping any comments about how off tune he was to herself.

Marla stopped to check Eliza's bag before they left, to make sure that everything she needed was in there, and then they were out the door and on their way to have a "Poppa day."

* * *

"So what do ya wanna do now, kiddo?" Jack sat across from Eliza at the Pizza Hut on Ave. F in downtown Childress. They'd just finished eating a large cheese pizza, and Eliza pointed out that he had some pizza sauce on the corner of his mouth. Jack wiped the side of his face with his napkin.

"That better?"

Eliza nodded. She pushed the remains of her last piece of pizza around on her plate with her hand. Jack just watched her. She really was quite beautiful. She had shoulder length, dark brown hair that was slightly wavy like her mothers. Her skin was pale and delicate and she had big blue eyes that always seemed a little sad when she was quiet. She looked back up at him when she noticed he was starring.

"What? Do I got a booger in ma nose?"

"_You're _the booger, ya little squirt."

She smiled softly and kept playing with her food. Jack was slightly taken aback by her mellow behavior.

"Hey, did the cat steal your tongue, or somethin'? Why so quiet? You got somethin' that yer thinkin' on?"

Eliza looked up at him with her big eyes, looked like she was about to say something and then shook her head no.

"Hmmm…a Twist with nothin' to say. Not too common 'round these parts." He gave her one more questioning look and then remembered the book in his jacket pocket.

"Oh, hey, I got you somethin' while you were away at camp. Wanna see what it is?"

Eliza's head jerked up, all the trouble in her eyes suddenly replaced by excitement.

"You gotta guess what it is first."

Eliza sighed and rolled her eyes. "Come on, Poppa. Just give it to me. I never guess right."

"Well…as tempting as that sounds this just happens to be a magical present that only shows itself if someone correctly guesses what it is. You get three tries." Jack sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, loving this little game they had together. She knew that even if she guessed wrong he'd give it to her, but she still played shocked and intrigued.

"Okay. Is it…a Barbie?"

"Heck no! It's somethin' much better than that."

Eliza gave him a doubtful look. "Is it a pony?"

"Okay, yer gonna have to take it down by a few notches. It's not that good."

Eliza sat for a minute, running her tongue over her lip, thinking what it could possibly be that her Poppa had bought her. A slow smile came to her face, and an excited sparkle appeared in her eye.

"Is it a book?"

Jack sat up from his resting position and leaned close to Eliza.

"Little girl, you must have some sort of magical powers, because that is exactly what it is."

Her eyes sparkled and she laughed. "Yep, I'm a psychic, didn't my mom tell you?"

"Must've slipped ma mind." Jack pulled the wrapped package out from the inside of his coat and slid it across the table. She eagerly tore into the paper and squealed when she saw it was a Goosebumps book. She told Jack that she'd been _dieing_ to read one of the new "choose your own fate" books, but her mom wouldn't buy one for her, said it would give her nightmares.

"Well, we'll just let this be our little secret then, how's that sound?"

Eliza nodded and ran her hand over her new book. Jack realized that now they both had a book that they had to hide from other people. He shoved the thought away and put his focus back on his little girl.

"So what do you wanna do? I asked you that a while back, but you never answered."

Eliza sat up in her seat. "Can we go to the library? Please, please, please, please!"

"Woah, there. I just bought you a new book. You need some more?"

Eliza let her mouth go into a full pout. Jack sighed.

"All right. The library it is. Thought you might want to go to the arcade or somethin'."

Jack pulled out his billfold and put some cash down on the table. The two of them headed out the truck.

* * *

_"Damnit, damnit, damnit all to hell."_

Jack was sitting in the reference section of the Childress Public Library.

_"What the fuck do you think yer doing? This isn't going to fix anythin'. You should just go back to the children's area with Liza. Nothin' good will come of all this snoopin' and dickin' around."_

When they'd gotten to the library, Eliza had practically dragged Jack to the children's section. She was so book hungry, it made Jack laugh. He'd never been this crazy about books. Then again, he'd never really had good schoolin' and working on his Daddy's ranch hadn't exactly given him a lot of free time. By the time he was 18 and heading out on the rodeo circuit, any thoughts of books had been left in the dust.

The children's area was made to look like a magical forest and in the center of the room there was a big "tree house" where the kids could sit and read for a while. There were a few kids there, most of them unattended because the children's section had librarians who doubled as day care takers. He'd stayed there with his granddaughter for a little while, following along as she weaved in and out of rows, until she finally found what she was looking for. She sat on a little stool and scanned the shelves enthusiastically.

It was about that time that Jack'd started having crazy thoughts. He figured it was being around all these books. It seemed like books had just dominated the past week of his life. He was leaning against a shelf, looking over some of the titles himself, mostly just to pass the time, when his eyes caught a picture book that was about the Rocky Mountains. His eyes got wide.

_"Why is it I can't seem to leave that story behind? Follows me where ever I go, seems."_

He stood looking at the spine of the picture book for a while and then, just as natural as breathing, his mind slid over to the man he'd never met, but had apparently had had a twenty year love affair with. He started to think about his description in the book: scruffy, long legged, muscular, cave-chested.

_"Don't seem like the type a guy I'd go for. Not like I've got much experience in that department."_

The book had depicted him as being rough, and stoic, quiet, and masculine. For Jack, it conjured an image of Clint Eastwood from "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly". Now, Clint, well Jack could maybe see himself going for that type, but honestly, who wouldn't?

He stopped himself at that thought, had to draw the line somewhere. He didn't like the fact he was having thoughts like that, didn't want to think that maybe they rang some sort of truth, that maybe they were coming from some part of him that had long been suppressed.

He looked around to see if anyone was looking, as though someone would be able to tell what he was thinking just by seeing him. An image of one of the librarians coming out of the woodwork to condemn him for thinking sinful thoughts, thoughts that only queers had, came to mind.

"_Well hell, burn me at the stake, then. Cause I fer sure can't get them to stop!"_

They were spinning like a tilt-a-whirl in his head, making him feel slightly dizzy, as though he actually were spinning around in circles. They had a broad range, didn't seem to stick to one idea or topic for very long. He moved from thinking on how the book described Ennis, to the things the book had described them doing together. It wasn't much, there wasn't a lot of graphic detail, but Jack had an imagination, and he could conjure some pretty interesting scenarios, which were plenty detailed. He could feel his dick start to harden, which just made him want to cut it off.

_"Damn you! What're you doin'? Yer not supposed to be getting' a thrill outta this? Stop it!"_

He hoped it wasn't too obvious that his pants were fitting tightly, not that anyone was looking his way. He glanced down at Eliza, saw that she was engrossed in what she was reading and realized that he had to get out of there. He was suffocating. He had to get alone. _Had_ to. He took a step closer to his granddaughter.

"Hey, Liza, will you be okay for a bit if I go n' check out another part a' the library?"

She looked up from her reading momentarily, murmured a 'yes' and went back to her reading. For a brief moment she'd reminded him of Lureen.

_"Fuck that! Can't think on Lureen right now."_

He high-tailed it out of the children's section, and paused when he got to the main lobby area, not sure what to do with himself.

"_Know what I wanna do, though, God damn me."_

He'd begun to sweat lightly on his forehead where his hat came down and slightly under his armpits. The room was stifling. Did anyone else realize how hot it was? He had to get out of there.

His eyes darted around for his options and then came to rest on the MEN'S ROOM sign. He made it to the bathroom in about three big strides and went into the first open stall. He was so fuckin' hot; he couldn't stand it anymore. He unzipped his pants and felt immediate relief as his dick was given some room. He didn't think he'd ever been this hard; it almost hurt. Jack'd been wanting to do this for the past four days, but he'd kept himself busy, never letting his mind stay on the story for too long, never letting his desire go this far. Now it was past the point of no return and even God Almighty himself couldn't' have stopped him.

He reached down and began to slowly stroke his cock, shivering at the feel of his hand and the cool air. He closed his eyes, and his mind immediately wandered to the first night in the tent. The scene came alive. He'd read it at least ten times since then, and every word was engraved in his mind. He sped up his pace, imagining the feel of Ennis' hands rough on his hips, the feel as he spit for lubrication and entered him, the panting, both bodies moving in fast, jerky movements, both letting out short breathy grunts and moans. Jack's knees went weak and he had to lean his shoulder against the side of the stall to keep his balance. He was so close, so close. He imagined Ennis, or at least as much of an Ennis that he could conjure, one hand grabbing at the shirt on his back, the other under him, open palm on his stomach. It was too much, and Jack let go with a surprised groan. His vision went dark as the blood rushed back into his head, and little flashes of light spotted the wall in front of him. And then he was alone, panting in the library bathroom, with his dick in his hand.

Jack, flushed the toilet, zipped his pants back up, and walked out of the stall. Luckily, it seemed that no one else had been in the bathroom. He walked over to the row of sinks and washed his hands. He splashed cold water over his face and looked at himself. He could barely look the man in the mirror in the eyes. What was going on? What was happening to him? It was all happening too fast, too fast for him to keep up.

_"So does this mean that I'm queer? Is that what this is all about?"_

Jack finally locked eyes with the figure in the mirror. He stared deep into the blue, until the pupils and flecks of black were just mixed shapes, abstract doodles that made no sense. Abruptly, he'd turned and left the restroom. If _that_ was what it all meant, than Jack Twist was not ready to admit it.

That had all happened about twenty minutes before. Now, Jack was sitting at a table in the reference area with a phone book for Wyoming on the small table in front of him. He flipped through the pages, not knowing if he'd find anything or what it would mean if he did. He was looking through the white pages, making his way through the C's.

_"Crawford, Mark; Crawford, Matt and Trudy; Crawford, Melvin and Grace …"_

He was too scared to go straight to the D's.

It had taken him a while to find the phone book that he was looking for. He wasn't even sure if they'd have it, but it turned out that most libraries carried current phone books for most other states. Go figure. So after scanning through the library's collection, he'd found it. It was luck really, who'd have thought that they would have had the phone book for Central Wyoming? Pure luck.

He sat down with the large book in hand, and began to flip through the pages, all the while silently cursing himself for what he was doing and what he was letting the story do to _him_.

He came to the D's. Jack felt nausea building in his throat, felt the tickles of anxiety in his stomach. He took in a deep breath trying to calm himself. No such luck.

He couldn't take it any longer. He shook off his fear, steeled himself, and flipped through the D's until he came to the letters he needed.

_"De La Cruz; De La Torre; Del; Del Mar,…Ennis."_

Jack stopped breathing. He could do nothing but stare down at the name on the page in front of him, the name that he had never heard until four days ago. The name that wouldn't stop running through his head, the name that made him lie in his bed at night and imagine things he'd never thought possible. Not possible for him anyway.

_"Holymotherfuckinshitonabrickandthepopetoo! He exists. He really exists. I can't believe it. I just can't fuckin' believe it."_

Yet somehow Jack Twist was not really surprised. _He_ certainly was real enough, still flesh and blood the last time he'd checked, so it made sense that who ever or where ever Ennis Del Mar was, he was probably flesh and blood too. But figuring and knowing were two completely different things. Just figuring, Jack could have lived with. Could have kept on just the way things were, ignoring the story and going on with his sorry excuse for a life. Course when had Jack been known to just let things be? Now, knowing, well, that changed things, didn't it? He couldn't pretend that this was just some sort of coincidence anymore, couldn't go on like it was just some little thing. Knowing that somewhere in Riverton, right that very moment, Ennis Del Mar was walkin' around, talkin', workin', shootin' the shit; that made Jack a little weak in the knees. Made his head start to spin a little faster than it already was. Made the fact that he had just wrung it out in the men's room of the library over a real person a little more terrifying. And yet somehow all the more exciting.

Jack re-read the number and address of the strange man over and over, till he could have quoted it like a bible passage, read it off like a poem. For some reason, he didn't have the balls to write it down, felt guilty, felt like that would make it even more real than it already was. He had an image of Lureen finding a slip of paper in his pants pocket with Ennis Del Mar's number and address on it. That would be awkward to explain. He wasn't sure why it would be though, not like it would mean anything to Lureen, not like she should have any reason to be suspicious over a slip of paper with a man's name on it. A _man's_ name.

_"Goddamn, boy. What have you gotten yerself mixed up with?"_

Jack closed the phone book and carried it back over to its shelf. Made sure it was in perfect line with the other books and that it was in its proper place. Felt like he had to clean up his trail, back step to make sure he hadn't missed anything. He walked back over to the table where he'd laid his hat and placed it back on his head.

_"Better be getting' back to ma little girl. Don't want her wonderin' where I run off to."_

Jack left the reference room with the phone number still running through his head like a familiar catchy tune. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with it, wasn't sure what it meant, but he did know that he wasn't going to worry about any of that at the moment.


	4. Chapter 4

Childress, Texas

June 20, 2000

Jack was standing at a payphone in front of West Texas Gas on the side of Highway 83. He had five dollars worth of quarters in his pocket, but not an ounce of will to use them.

It was around 2:30 on a Tuesday; exactly one week since he'd read Brokeback Mountain and everything had started to change. It was bitchin' hot outside, there was a dark patch of sweat forming on the back of his denim shirt. He took his hat off, wiped his forehead, and looked around to make sure no one was watching him. The place was deserted. Not a soul for miles, unless the station attendant counted, but the pay phone was off to the side of the building, couldn't be seen from inside the store, and when Jack had gone in to pay for some gas he'd taken note that the guy at the counter was busy watching reruns of MASH. Nothing to worry about. Jack had known that this place would be empty, and that was why he'd chosen to come a ways out of town, even though there was an Allsup's convenience store right on Ave. F.

Jack looked at the empty booth in front of him. It was run down and muddy, most likely wasn't used much these days cause folks were buying cell phones. He wrinkled his nose at the thought. Personally, he hated the things, hated that Lureen was always squawking away on hers, and hated that Bobby had bought him one for his 55th birthday. Jack didn't have a clue what to do with the thing. He carried it around with him to please his son, but he never used it, not unless Lureen called, wanting to know where he was. Heck, he didn't even know what his phone's number was. Just relied on the fact that Lureen knew, and left it at that.

He sighed and put his hat back on his head.

_"Can't stand here all day, Twist. Ya know what you've gotta do."_

Maybe he _didn't_ have to do it, though. It still wasn't too late to just turn back and forget all about it, go on like nothing had changed. Just let things be. Just forget all about Ennis Del Mar and the dreams he had at night, and all the times he'd jerked off thinking about him in the past few days.

Jack looked down at the ground and kicked at the dirt with his boot. He wasn't fooling anyone. He knew it was too late to go back, too late to pretend. He stepped into the phone booth and slid the door closed behind him. It was stifling hot inside, which just made him want to get it over and done with.

"You could be sitting in the comforts of yer own home, right now. Air conditioning keepin' ya cool, glass a' whiskey in hand."

Jack shoved that thought down and picked up the phone. True, he could have made the call from his home phone, could be sittin' back in his favorite chair with his feet kicked up, but something about that didn't seem right. It wasn't _just_ the fact that he didn't want anyone to know about his call, sure it would be a secret at first, but when the phone bill came, Lureen was bound to ask why they had to pay for a long distance phone call to Wyoming. Jack wouldn't have a very good answer since his parents had died several years earlier. But, no, it wasn't just that. It just…didn't seem right to be making this call in his house. He didn't want to talk to the man he'd been fantasizing about for a week surrounded by things that reminded him of his hum drum existence or his passionless life with Lureen. This was something completely knew for Jack, and he couldn't be drowning in sights and smells of his past life while he took care of business.

He tried to stop his thoughts from wandering off and focused on the phone number. It crystallized in his mind and he started to dial, until he remembered the quarters in his pocket. He put in eight quarters, as instructed by the sign on the phone, and then dialed the number that had been running through his head during his days and his dreams since Friday.

The phone started ringing, but the ringing was soft and distant, the miles between suddenly real for Jack, 739 miles to be exact.

Sweat was pouring down his face now (the heat only partially contributing to the torrent), and he couldn't stop swallowing. It felt like his throat was closing up, the sides fusing together until the air passage was only the size of a pinhead.

"Damn, I thought I was nervous when I called Annie's agent! That weren't nothin' compared ta this. Feel like I'm gonna puke."

The phone had only been ringing for a few seconds, but it felt like hours to Jack. His leg was shaking in anticipation of an answer, and his face was so wet from the heat, that he had to blink the sweat away from his eyes like they were tears. He still hadn't decided what he was going to say, figured it was best to just leave it to instinct. Didn't know if that was such a good idea anymore. He'd assumed that smooth talking Jack could take control of any situation.

"Then again, assumin' makes an ass out of you n' me."

Then, a voice came on the line. Jack nearly had a stroke, and then he realized it was a woman. He listened closely and blinked.

"We're sorry, but the number you have dialed, area code, 307-857-4286, has been disconnected. Area code, 307-857-4286, has been disconnected. No further information for area code, 307-857…"

Jack let the phone fall back onto the receiver.

"Well, certainly didn't see that comin'."

He slid the door of the phone booth open and took an appreciative breath of air. Somehow it didn't make him feel any better. He took a few steps out side and fiddled around with his hands. This was one of those moments when he badly wanted a cigarette. He'd quit nearly twenty years before, when news started coming out about how cigarettes gave you lung cancer and all sorts of things. It had been his decision, and then Lureen had followed in his footsteps. One of the first times she'd let herself be influenced by him since Bobby had become a teenager. But even though he'd been nicotine free for so long, he still got horrible craving to smoke. It wasn't very often, usually only when he was under a lot of stress, but whenever the urges came, they came with a vengeance. His palms would start to sweat, and he'd start fidgeting because he didn't know what to do with his hands, wanted to feel a smoke between his fingers, wanted to inhale slowly and let the strong flavor fill his mouth and nose. This was one of those times. He needed a cigarette. _Needed_ one. His eyes darted to the entrance of the small gas station shop.

"It would be easy to get a pack, just one…no one has to know but you."

Jack mulled the thought over, rolled it around, liked the feel of it, but still wasn't convinced. He wasn't very comfortable with how good he was getting at keeping secrets. He'd always been a fairly honest person, and wasn't so sure he liked all the things about him that were changing..

"Fuck it. Lie about on thin', lie 'bout another. Not too hard. You jus' better not get used to all this given inta desires, Twist. Can't be healthy."

Jack walked into the store and bought a pack of Marlboros, then got back in his truck and headed home.

* * *

The ride home was a troubled one. His thoughts were all over the place, didn't know what to think on first. It helped that he was sucking hard on a smoke, tossing the ashes out the window of his truck, made his worries seem not as worrisome.

_"So his phone's been disconnected. Could mean a number a' things. Could be he just unhooked his phone fer the afternoon, could be he hasn't paid his phone bill in a couple a' months and the phone comp'ny disconnected it. Could be he doesn't live at that address anymore, in which case…"_

In which case, he would have no idea how to reach him, unless he waited till the phone book was updated. That would be a year of waiting. Jack shook his head, took a long drag on his cigarette, and sped his truck up. He was cruising down Highway 83, making his way back to his house, but taking the long way.

_"What would a man his age be doin' moving around? Little late in life, ain't it? He should be settled down somewhere…married."_

Jack's stomach flip-flopped a little. What if he was married? What then? In the story he'd been married to a gal named Alma, but they'd gotten divorced. That didn't mean that he was divorced in real life, and even if he _had_ gotten divorced, he could have gotten remarried.

Jack exited off the highway and slowed his truck up to a red light. His cigarette was already down to the filter, so he tossed it onto the side of the road.

_"I'm actin' like I actually know this man. Don't know nothin' bout his life, cept what I read."_

The light switched to green and Jack continued driving. He began to realize that he didn't really know _anything_ about him. Just because he was in the book didn't mean everything was true, hell, it might not even be the same person. Must be some other guys with the same name, and like Annie Proulx's agent had said, Jack wasn't the only one with the name Twist. But the story had been true for Jack, up to a point, so did that mean it was as true for Ennis Del Mar? Maybe it was just a coincidence, maybe it was just a guy named Ennis that happened to live in Riverton, Wyoming.

Jack sighed as he approached his street. After a block he turned in to his drive. There was no real way of knowing the truth. No way of telling if Ennis was the person from the story or not. But…it still seemed like too much for just a coincidence. Jack was a character in Brokeback Mountain, and he certainly was real, flesh and blood. What were the chances that Jack would read a story about himself, and then find out that there was a _real_ Ennis Del Mar that lived in Riverton, Wyoming just like the book said? It had to be the same person.

_"Maybe he's someone that Annie Proulx knows."_

But Annie Proulx certainly didn't know _him_. She had no clue that there was a Jack Twist living in Childress Texas, and even if that had just been a coincidence, or even if she'd looked up his name and address to try and be accurate about her information in some sick way, it was impossible that she could have known about his childhood, or his parents, or his wife, or his son, or his job working for his father-in-law. Those were details that no one would have known had they not met him. She also had his personality and his speech patterns pegged down. And then there were the strange feelings he'd been having the past few days. The strange thoughts, and desires…how did that fit in? Was it simply because he'd read the story and somehow it'd just piqued his interest? Or was there actually something there? Was there actually a part of him that he'd been denying? And if that was true (which he hoped it wasn't), how did this Annie Proulx have such insight into his life when he didn't have a friggin' clue?

Jack sat in his car, which had been sitting parked in the garage for several minutes, and sighed. He didn't know what to think. There was too much to think on, too much swimming around in his brain.

_"I sure do hope he's the Ennis from the story…and I hope he's divorced."_

Jack hissed and pinched his nose with his fore finger and thumb.

_"And what do you think will happen even if he is? Where are you going with this? What do you want from this man, and more importantly, _why_ do you want _anythin'_ from him?"_

He had no idea. He had no idea why he was having these thoughts, but by now it was next to impossible to get them to stop. He didn't know why he hoped that Ennis was divorced, or maybe he did, but he didn't want to admit it. Jerking off was one thing, but this hope he had…he wasn't even sure what the hope was. It was just this odd feeling he had in the pit of his stomach, this odd…need for some sort of…

_"Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it! Enough is enough!"_

Jack got out of the truck, slamming the door behind him. He stood next to the sleek F-150 for a minute, looking down, thinking hard on what he was going to do now. He didn't need to go into the office, Eliza was at a friend's house, and he certainly wasn't going to call up that smug bastard, Jeremy Kilburn, to go play golf. Jack let his shoulders slump, and rubbed his neck with a weak hand. He was tired, he was sweating and he just wanted to go lie down and maybe watch some TV.

He walked in through the garage door, laid his keys on the counter, and then headed straight for the bedroom. He tossed his hat on the bed and then went into the bathroom to take a piss. Afterwards he stripped off his clothes, dropping them in a pile on the bathroom floor, and turned on the shower. He just needed to relax, to clear his mind.

He stood outside of the glass shower door, and looked at himself in the mirror above the vanity. Jack let his mouth curl up into a crooked smile. He still had it, wasn't bad looking for a guy in his fifties. He admired his strong features, then made his way down to his chest and stomach. The hair on his chest was still completely black, and he'd lost some of his belly fat in the past year. Lureen had told him to start cutting back on butter and alcohol, and sure as shit, he'd shed about ten pounds. Jack turned to the side and sucked his stomach in a little. When he did that, it was as flat as it had been when he'd been twenty years old. He turned back to face the mirror and admired his dick. Sure it wasn't gigantic, but no one would consider it small, either. And it sure as hell got the job done.

_"Not bad, not bad at all. A little rougher 'round the edges, but nothing to be ashamed of."_

Jack opened the shower door and checked the water temperature. It was hot enough. He stepped into the marble stall and felt immediate relief as the warm water began to trickle over his neck and back. He closed his eyes, lifted his head up, and let the water get his hair good and soaked.

He let out a shaky breath. He sure had been excitable the past few days. Seemed like all someone had to do was breath the wrong way and he would get antsy.

His thoughts turned back to Ennis.

_"It's the knowin', yet not knowin' that's got me all worked up. I'm like a blind man in a bullring. I know it's out there, just don't know where."_

The suspense was killing him, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep easy until he knew for sure.

_"So what's that mean? That I gotta go out ta the pay phone ev'ry day and call until I get an answer?"_

Jack knew that wasn't what he'd do, and even if he did get an answer one day, what then? What would he say? He ran his hands through his hair and continued to let the water soothe him.

_"You know this can't be done over the phone. Too impersonal, he'd end up jest hangin' up on ya, like that agent, think yer crazy."_

Jack figured he'd think he was crazy no matter what. But he felt like he had to do it, and that left him with only one option.

"Gotta go to Wyoming, talk to him in person. See who this Ennis Del Mar is, and what's so goddamn special about him anyway."

Jack knew the idea was crazy. He knew it to his bones. Knew that if he actually went to Wyoming looking for this man…well, that meant something serious. It meant Jack would be taking something on that was way out of his control. He felt a little like David when he was considering fighting Goliath. Scared as shit, but full of determination.

Jack turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He toweled himself dry and then walked back into the bedroom to get dressed.

Truth was Jack wasn't so sure he had the balls to actually pick up and head to Wyoming. He knew he wanted to, knew he was going to try, but he felt like the slightest bump in the road might scare him off. He just hoped that there weren't too many ahead.

* * *

It was late Thursday afternoon. Jack was walking aimlessly around the house trying to find something to do until Lureen came home. He checked his watch.

_"Five fifteen. She should be home any minute, now."_

He continued to pace from room to room. He couldn't sit, was too damn anxious. He smirked at the fact that if someone had been watching him then, they would have thought he was restlessly awaiting his wife's arrival like a love sick puppy dog. He laughed. What a joke. He was anxious for Lureen to come home, yes, but it wasn't because he wanted to see her. No, Jack had to tell her his plans.

He'd decided the night before that he was definitely going to Wyoming. He'd had the idea earlier that week, but that's all it really was at the time. He'd had no real intention of actually going through with it, no matter how he may have convinced himself at first. But the previous night, when he was lying in bed, wide-awake several hours after Lureen had turned out her light, something had broken in side of Jack, snapped like a twig trying to hold back the Hoover Dam. He'd suddenly realized that going to Wyoming _was_ the only way to soothe his conflicted mind, to finally answer the questions that he had involving himself and involving Ennis Del Mar. Even making up his mind about taking the trip had eased him enough to fall to sleep, though once asleep he was kept busy dreaming.

The next morning he'd gone into the office, to kill the time a little, and to keep up appearances, didn't want everyone knowing that he'd had a life altering experience. Besides, sitting at home, the anticipation to start his journey would have been intense enough to drive a man insane. So instead he'd sat at his desk, stared at his computer screen for a while, chatted with some of the guys in the office while trying to avoid any alone time with Grace-Anne. When lunchtime rolled around, he turned off his computer and jetted out of there, not even bothering to give Lureen a tip of his hat. He'd red lined it all the way back to his house, and nearly drove his truck right into the garage door, he was so impatient. It was still too slow for him, so he turned off the ignition of this truck, left it parked in the drive, and ducked under the rising garage door to get inside the house.

He was itching to be packed and ready to go. He tossed some clothes into a suitcase, enough for at least a week, because he didn't know how long he'd be gone, and gathered a few toiletries. He left his toothbrush out in its little ceramic cup, so he wouldn't forget to brush his teeth in the morning. He was finished with his packing in less than an hour.

When he was done with that, he went out and filled his truck with gas at Allsup's Convenience store and bought a map of the US so he could plot his trip. He hadn't driven to Wyoming in so long, had only made a couple trips there to see his parents since he moved to Texas. It was a shame, but Jack just hadn't had the time to go see them while he was working for Newsome Farm Machinery, which later became Newsome Farm Equipment. It had been more of an excuse than the truth, because Jack had known he could have gotten as much time off as he wanted, and certainly had taken advantage of that, just not to visit his folks.

He sat in his truck for about fifteen minutes while he sketched out his path with a golf pencil that had been sitting in a cup holder under the dash. Then he headed back to his house.

He'd tried watching TV for a while, but he just couldn't get involved with any of the story lines, his stomach was too fluttery to let him focus. So he got up and rooted through the refrigerator. He helped himself to a leftover chicken leg from dinner on Wednesday, ate it cold standing by the sink, looking out the window. When he was done, he couldn't think of anything else to do, so he took a shower and jerked off. It was entertainment. He tried not to think on how easy or how often he'd begun to do that to visions spun from Brokeback Mountain. When he'd put his clothes back on (no need to go dirtying a fresh pair) he began to walk around the house, looking for things that needed fixing that he'd been neglecting. He stopped the spare bathroom faucet from dripping, which had been driving Lureen nuts, and then tried getting the kitchen table to keep from wobbling. He'd noticed that one of the pegs was missing a cap on the bottom, had tried to look for it in the junk drawer in their utility room, and then gave up and just wedged a small piece of cardboard under it. Good as new. Eventually Jack had run out of things to fix and had settled on pacing around the house. Moving kept his stomach from jumping around too much, eased his jittery feet.

He checked his watch again.

_"Goddamn! Five twenty-one. It's only been six minutes? Jeezus. Lureen, get your ass home, so I can just put myself outta my misery."_

He already knew what he was going to say to Lureen. He knew that letting "salesman Jack" try to take over with Lureen would only end in disaster. Lureen knew salesman Jack inside and out, and she also knew how to eventually get him to stick his foot in his mouth, so the tables were turned. She was a smooth one; he'd give her that.

Just then, as though conjured by his thoughts, Jack heard the garage door open and he knew that Lureen was home. He came quickly into the kitchen, so he could be there to greet her when she came in the door, getting himself ready to dive into the script he'd written.

_"Hey there, honey. How was yer day? How 'bout you relax for a few minutes? We can grill out tonight, still got those steaks in the freezer. While we eat, I want to tell you somethin'."_

The utility door came flying open and Lureen walked into the kitchen. She dropped her briefcase on the floor and went right past Jack into the bedroom. He turned to follow her.

"Jack don't talk to me right now. I've had a piss poor day, and I just want to be alone. There's leftover chicken in the fridge, make yourself somethin' to eat. I'm going to take a bath and go to bed."

She slammed the bedroom door closed after. Jack stood motionless in the same spot he'd stood before she'd come in, mouth hanging open, the words he'd practiced still on his lips. Nothing seemed to be going the way he expected these days.

* * *

Jack sat in front of the television watching some old western with John Wayne and thought on what his next move would be.

He'd made himself a chicken sandwich (Jack was terrible at making pretty much anything except sandwiches) and then he'd called Bobby's house. He talked briefly with Marla, told her he'd be out of town for the next few days, but he wasn't sure exactly how long. Then he'd had a quick word with Eliza, asked her how the book was coming, she filled him in on all the details in a hushed voice because her mama was in the same room with her and still didn't know about the book. Jack smiled. He always cheered up when he talked with his granddaughter, and tonight, the call made him feel tolerably better. He'd told Eliza to be a good girl while he was on his trip and then hung up the phone. Now he just had to tell Lureen. And God forbid telling Lureen anything when she'd had a bad day. It was like trying to tell a mother bear to act rationally while her cubs were getting attacked.

Jack winced at this idea, but finally forced himself to stand and turn off the TV. It was almost ten, and he would be getting up before dawn so he could make it to Riverton by early evening. It had been a while since Jack'd woken up before five, and he wasn't so sure that his body would handle it all that well.

_"Well, ya do what ya have ta do."_

Jack turned off the rest of the lights in the living room and kitchen and then, with dread, approached the bedroom door. He opened it as quietly as possible and shut it behind him. Lureen was lying in bed with a silk mask over her eyes. The light in the bathroom was still on. He tip toed over to the bathroom, took a leak, and then brushed his teeth and washed his face. He took off his shirt and pants, and folded them on the edge of the bathtub, then flicked the bathroom light off as he went into the bedroom.

"Turn that back on."

Jack froze and then switched the light back on. He'd thought she was asleep, but like in many cases involving Lureen, he was wrong. He shrugged and walked to his side of the bed, crawled in as easily as he could, trying not to shake it too much. He laid on his back and folded his arms under his head. Well, it was now or never. He took in a breath and let it out.

"Hey, Lureen, I wanted ta talk ta ya 'bout somethin'."

She was silent for a few moments, and then sighed. "Well, talk then Jack. I'm listenin'."

"I'm goin' up ta Wyoming tomorrow mornin', gonna go visit my folks land. See what's what."

Lureen was quiet a while longer, but her mouth was pursed like when she was thinking about something real hard. She pulled off her mask, but kept her eyes on the ceiling.

"Well, that's real nice Jack, but why did you wait 'till tonight ta tell me?"

Her voice was level, and he couldn't tell if she was calm or if she was just faking him out. After all these years living with Lureen, he still was awful at reading women. Lureen seemed like another species most of the time. Jack cleared his throat.

"Ya see, I jest decided on it last night after ya went to bed, and I had to pack and plan out the drive today. I meant ta tell you when ya got home, but…well…"

"So ya just decided last night. Just said ta yerself, 'Self, I think I'm gonna go and get in touch with my home land, figure its about time, since I never showed no interest in it before." She sat up on her elbows and turned her face to Jack.

Now he knew she was angry. Was sure of that.

"Lureen, come on. Don't be angry with me. I jest need some time away."

"Sure, you need some time away from all the hard work ya do 'round the office. From all the work you do 'round the house too."

"I fixed the leaky faucet."

"Well thank ya kindly, and fuck you very much! How dare you jest decide that it would be okay ta leave me here ta do all the work! How dare you tell me that ya 'jest need ta get away' when all you do is screw around town doing God knows what, and come into the office a couple times a week. You need ta get away! You're already gone! Feel like I'm talking to a fool, half the time! Ya hardly ever listen to a word I say, and when ya actually _do_ what I tell ya, ya find some way ta screw it up!"

Jack watched her face as she ranted, watched her mouth forming the words and her eyes that were fixed coldly on his. He felt anger building up inside him like hot water in a kettle, tried to hold it back, but knew that there were only so many times when he could duck his head and take it. Only so many times when he could allow himself to be swatted and then grabbed by the back of the neck to have his face shoved in his own mess. He sat up swiftly.

"Lureen will you just shut the hell up fer once! You may not get tired of hearing yer own voice, but I sure as hell do!"

"Jack, don't you dare—"

"No, don't you dare." He cut her off and stared hard into her eyes. She shut her mouth.

"I have been hummin' ta yer tune fer as long as we been married, and I am tired of it! You have never needed me 'round to help run things, not even when Bobby was a boy. Seems like you kept me 'round fer kicks more than anythin' else, and yer father was the same way."

Lureen was as shocked at the words coming out of Jack's mouth as he was.

"Now I know that I haven't been the best a' husbands, but I've always let you do what ever the hell ya wanted, so now I'm gonna do what ever the hell _I_ want. Tomorrow morning, I am leaving for Wyoming and that is that! I am a patient man, and I would usually jest let ya say what ya want, and then go on with my business, but there is only so far one person can be pushed. And I know it won't kill you to be without my presence fer a week, seein' as we only see each other when we absolutely have to."

Jack laid back down and turned away from Lureen, adjusting his pillow under his neck. Lureen sat motionless, speechless for once in her life from seeing this aggressive side of her husband. Her mouth worked up and down as though she were trying to catch the words she wanted to say out of the air.

"Jack…"

"Go to sleep Lureen." He said, his voice muffled from the pillow pressing into his cheek.

Lureen slowly settled herself back under the covers, not sure what had just happened. Jack smiled at the thought of putting Lureen in her place; it was the next best thing to L.D., since he'd passed on.

Jack let his mind calm again, let his anger seep out of him like steam, feeling better than he had in days. He felt in control for once. He looked out the window across from his side of the bed at the half moon. His thoughts returned to Ennis.

_"Ennis is lookin' at this same moon, tonight. Maybe he's not that far away after all."_

Jack inhaled deeply, and closed his eyes, letting himself drift slowly into sleep, comforted by the thought of Ennis and the road that would lead Jack to him the next morning.


	5. Chapter 5

_The long and winding road_

_that leads to your door_

_will never disappear_

_I've seen that road before_

_It always leads me here_

_Lead me to you door_

Jack pulled his F-150 into Big O Tires on Yellowstone Rd. He was pissed like a mule because his brand new truck had just started to act up on him. He'd been passing through Cheyenne, almost had the city completely behind him, when the CHECK ENGINE light on his instrument panel started blinking. He'd slowed down and eased his truck off to the side of Interstate 25. He got out, annoyed by the disturbance and by having to leave the comfort of the cool air conditioning, and popped open the hood. He'd looked around, hadn't seen any glaring problems, but he'd tried tightening a couple things and making some small adjustments anyway. He'd only had the truck for six months, shouldn't have had any trouble with it. He slammed the hood closed when he was finished and then grabbed at the small of his back for a long, satisfying stretch. He wasn't sure if he'd done any good, it had been years since he'd worked on a truck. When he'd married Lureen and gotten rid of his old clunker, he'd never kept a truck long enough for it to start having problems. His mind was rusty on the mechanics of engines, and it'd been so long, and so many changes and upgrades had been made over the years, that even had he remembered, it wouldn't have done him much good.

He got back in his truck, ready to continue the trip, and crossing his fingers that he'd fixed the problem. No such luck. Once he'd turned the key in the ignition, the light came back on and a horrible beeping started along with it.

_"Great."_ He thought. _"All I did was make it worse."_

He'd gotten off the highway at the next exit and asked directions to the nearest auto repair shop. And here he was. As he drove into the parking lot he surveyed the area. Seemed pretty run down for a big city, must have been in a lousier part of town. He shrugged and pulled his truck into the open garage space, put it in park, and hopped out, grabbing his black hat off the passenger seat and settling it on his head. He slammed the door and stood looking grim at the black F-150 with his arms crossed over his chest. A short, red headed garage attendant approached him.

"Well, hey there, sir. How can I help ya?" The small man held out his hand and Jack reluctantly shook it. He sure as hell didn't feel like being friendly.

"Ma truck here's got some sort a' trouble goin' on. Few miles back the engine light came on, so I pulled off the highway and checked it ma self. Didn't see much wrong with it, but I'm not so sure 'bout the workin's of engines no more. Need ta have it checked, make sure it's all right, cuz I need to get back on the road. I'm tryin' to get to Riverton by five or six."

The small man nodded all the while, looking down at the floor and chewing on his bottom lip, intently listening to his words. Jack noticed from his coverall that his name was Karl. Finally he looked back up.

"How old's yer truck?"

"It's new. Just got it in January, a 2000 model."

Karl chewed some more on his lip and then clapped his hands together.

"Well, I'll check it out fer ya. Make sure there's no trouble. Sometimes these new F-150's get kinda antsy and their lights start to flash fer no reason. Could be the lights goin' out, even. But I'll give it a good look over."

Karl ushered Jack away from the garage towards a little door.

"While I check it out, ya can sit in the waitin' room. It's right through this door here. We got sev'ral magazines and today's newspaper, so ya can jest read fer a spell. I'll come n' get ya when I'm done."

Jack opened the door, eager to be alone. But when he came into the waiting room, he was immediately disappointed because there were two young boys sitting in the room playing cards across the seat of a plastic chair. They looked up when he entered and then immediately went back to what they were doing. Jack took a seat on the opposite side of the small room, trying to give himself some sort of privacy.

He folded his hands in his lap and looked around. There were six plastic chairs lining the sides of the little waiting area. The two boys, one skinny and blonde, the other slightly round and red headed like Karl, played cards beneath the only window. Jack noticed the view out the window wasn't much. It opened out onto the east side of the parking lot, empty except for an old beat up Chevrolet. Beyond that there wasn't much, a few houses and some grassland. He was definitely on the outskirts of Cheyenne. He was _definitely_ in Wyoming. Even though he had been away for a long time, and even though he wasn't very deep in the state, he could still tell that this was where he'd grown up.

"_Seems like not much has changed, even in all this time."_

Jack returned to his inspection of the waiting room and saw that the rest wasn't much. There was one stool topped with layers of outdated issues of American Angler magazine and a small table that had a coffee pot and some Styrofoam cups. It was really quite depressing.

The blonde, skinny kid that was facing him noticed his roaming eyes.

"Pretty dull in here, huh?"

Jack tore his gaze from a large fly on the wall and looked at the boy.

"Well, I certainly been in nicer places."

"Tell me about it." The red head piped in.

Jack looked at the boys who were busy playing what looked like Texas Hold 'Em. He frowned because he could see the red headed boy's hand, and knew that he was playing reckless. He told himself to mind his own business, but as usual didn't follow his own advice.

"You shouldn't bet so much before the Fourth Street with a hand like that."

The chubby kid turned to look at Jack, then saw that his hand was completely visible. He turned his cards away and pursed his lips.

"So what are you an expert at the game or somethin'?"

Jack shrugged and looked back at the fly on the wall, which hadn't moved in the past ten minutes.

"If'n ya don't want my advice, I'll be happy not ta give it."

He crossed his arms and started to hum. Both boys stared at the strange man with wide eyes. The blonde one leaned across the chair and whispered something to the chubby one. The chubby one shrugged and then turned back to Jack.

"Say, mister, do ya wanna play a game or two with us? We could use some pointers."

Jack laughed softly and shifted to the edge of his seat.

"Well since ya went and asked so nicely. But I'll jest deal, you guys don't wanna have to play with me, you'll lose some real money."

He scooted his chair closer to where they played.

"My names Jack. Jack Twist."

"I'm Jonah." Said the blonde boy. "And this here's Dewey."

Jack reached out and shook both of their hands. He noticed they were dirty, and smirked. Reminded him of his own days as a boy, except for the being cooped up in the waiting room of a body shop bit.

"Say, what're you boys doing sittin' 'round this room? Shouldn't ya be out causin' a ruckus or somethin'?"

Dewey shook his head and started collecting their cards. "Nah. My brother had ta come inta work today ta cover fer his buddy, Stan, and my ma and my sis are in Cheyenne lookin' fer churches fer the weddin'." He shuffled the cards. "Karl wouldn't let me stay at home, so I had ta come ta work with him. He says he don't want me messin' around in the garage or gettin' too far outta his sights, so I have ta stay in here 'till my mom can come and pick me up."

Jack nodded his head and raised his eyes brows at the long story. He turned to Jonah.

"And what 'bout you? Why're you here?"

The boy shrugged. "Eh, got nothin' better ta do. Ma folks don't care where I am, no how."

Dewey put the cards back in a neat stack and handed them to Jack.

"All right, so show us yer stuff."

* * *

The three of them played a few games, and Jack taught them all the poker tips he knew. The boys finally persuaded Jack to lay down some money and play, and after two games he found that he was out nearly twenty bucks.

"Shoot. You boys're too good fer me. Shoulda never shown ya them tricks."

The boys laughed and counted what they'd won.

"Sure can't thank ya enough fer showin' them, though." Jonah chuckled.

Just then the door opened and Karl came into the waiting room.

"She's all ready, sir. I checked her out and everythin' looks fine."

His eyes landed on the two boys that were still puttin' away their cards and their winnings. He frowned and placed his hands on his hips.

"Now I thought that I told you boys ta behave! And here I find ya playin' poker and swindlin' this nice man outta his hard earned money."

He turned to Jack. "I sure hope they didn't get too much outta ya. I'm awful sorry. I'll make 'em give it back."

Jack stood and waved away the comment. "It's no problem. Got myself inta it." He pushed his chair back where it belonged. "Don't be too hard on the boys either. I was the one teachin' them some playin' techniques, so it's my fault, really."

Karl gave Jack a look and then turned his weary eyes to the boys.

"All right. I'll talk ta _you_ boys later. Be out here waitin' ta square things up, when yer ready, Mister..."

"Jack Twist. But Jack is fine."

Karl hesitated and then said, "All right. Jack." He walked back into the garage, leaving the door open for him.

Jack picked up his hat, which he'd taken off in the heat of the game, and planted it squarely on his head, his poor mood forgotten.

"Well you boys take care a' yerselves, and don't get inta too much trouble."

"We won't." They chorused in unison.

Jack turned to head out the door, but before he could leave Jonah called him back.

"Hey Mister Twist, yer not from around here are ya?"

Jack turned. He thought on his answer for a minute.

"No, son, I'm from Texas. But I was born here in Wyoming, up in Lightening Flat. Been a while since I've been back, though."

Jonah and Dewey looked up at the tall man in black. There was nothing else for them to say, no more questions to ask. Jack nodded at them and turned once again to walk out to the garage.

"Welcome home, Jack!" Jonah called as he left the room.

Jack walked towards Karl, who was standing by the truck with a clipboard.

_"Home. Seems like a long time since I've thought of it as that. Somehow, don't sound so wrong, though."_

He reached the side of his truck where big brother Karl was waiting. Karl looked down at the clipboard once more before speaking.

"Well, like I said, I checked her all out, and she seems jest fine. I couldn't see nothin' wrong with the engine and when I turned the ignition back on, the light had turned off and stopped blinking. Was probably jest a faulty light bulb that was decidin' ta go out. We don't have the bulbs fer the dash in stock right now, otherwise I would've changed it out fer ya, but if it gives ya more trouble jest call me up and I can order 'em fer ya."

Jack smiled and shook his head.

"Thank ya kindly, but I was jest passin' through. I'm headin' ta Riverton, hope ta get there by this evenin'."

"Oh yeah, ya mentioned that earlier. Well then, if it turns back on, don't worry too much. You can order the bulbs when ya get ta where yer going."

_"Yeah when I get ta where I'm goin'. Where exactly are ya goin', Jack?"_

He shook Karl's hand and paid the fifteen dollars for the routine check up. He hurriedly pulled out of the garage and waved at Karl in his rear view mirror. Before Jack had pulled out, Karl had stopped him and apologized once again for the behavior of his younger brother and his friend. Jack had assured him it was okay. He thought on the boys as he waved to Karl, hoped that they didn't get themselves into too much trouble, hoped they stayed boys for a long time to come. Jack sighed. He'd always been somewhat of a sentimentalist, but he couldn't be worrying about a couple of kids he met in a car shop waiting room. Right now he was too eager to get back on the road and closer to Riverton.

* * *

Jack passed a sign that said there were 25 miles to Casper, which meant he wasn't too far from Riverton. Jack's stomach had already started doing summersaults, and his left leg was shaking anxiously. He was more nervous than a newborn kitten, could hardly think straight he was so jumpy.

It was already a little past six o'clock, later than Jack had wanted it to be, but he figured he could make it to Riverton by 7:30 or so. He just hoped that he wouldn't be interrupting anything once he got there. Wouldn't want to show up in the middle of a family dinner or something. That was the worst-case scenario.

_"No, Twist, the worst-case scenario is you arrive, open yer fool mouth, spill the whole story ta this man, and he punches yer lights out."_

Okay, he had to admit, that was worse. Jack looked out the window at the passing scenery. It was mainly grassland, but in the distance he was beginning to see the mountains. They drew nearer and nearer the closer he got. He knew it was silly, but he almost felt like the mountains were egging him on, calling out to him, begging him to just keep his eyes on the road, his foot on the pedal, till he got to the man he'd come looking for.

It was a very odd feeling he'd had the whole trip, had had it since he woke up in the morning and put his bag in the truck, and it only intensified by the time he turned onto the highway and started his long trek to Wyoming. It was all so surreal, and it was hard as hell to describe. Even Jack, a man who had a way with words, couldn't rightly explain what he was feeling.

_"It's like being two people at once, except, both people are still me, just…different versions of me."_

He was traveling on the same highway, making the same journey that Brokeback Jack (which is what he'd started calling the story version of himself) made for twenty years. The same route, because there was only one practical way to get to Riverton, Wyoming from Childress, Texas. The scary part was that real life Jack was making the trip for the same reasons as Brokeback Jack. Well, almost.

_"Still goin' to go see Ennis Del Mar. Just won't be meetin' him up in the mountains and havin' sex with him."_

Jack felt himself begin to harden at the idea and was immediately uncomfortable. He was not going to Wyoming because he wanted to have sex with Ennis Del Mar. He was not. He was _not_. He wasn't sure why he had to convince himself so stern-like, though.

So the whole trip he'd felt like he was dreaming, or stoned, one of his favorite past times during the late 70s. It terrified him, because the closer he got to Wyoming, the closer he felt he was getting to Brokeback Jack, almost like the two were becoming one and the same. It was this odd feeling that was growing in the pit of his stomach, of reality meeting fiction, of some sort of communion between universes.

_"Getting' a little out there aren't ya, Twist? Ya sound a little like Bobby when he went on his Zen kick during college."_

Jack chuckled at the thought of the days when Bobby had thought he was a hippy. It'd lasted maybe two months, and then he was back to eating red meat and wearing cowboy boots. Sure had been an interesting time for him and Lureen, though.

He passed another sign that said he was now only ten miles outside Casper. As he drove on, he saw more and more billboards on the side of the road, advertising restaurants and realtors. Jack tried the radio, figuring he could get a signal now that he was near the city. He flipped through the channels, getting a lot of static and then finally finding a station that was playing Willie Nelson's song "You Were Always On My Mind". Jack hummed along and kept driving, letting his thoughts waft out the open window in lieu of listening to good music.

When he passed Casper, the radio started to fade out again and he turned it off. The silence brought his nervousness back. He tried to just focus on the road ahead. The highway became nearly deserted after he passed Casper, except for the few pick-ups and semis that he'd passed. It was damn lonely out on the road.

His mind wandered to the mountains, to the clear night sky, and the fresh air, and the sound of mountain streams softly babbling. He hadn't been up to the mountains many times before. His father once took him hunting in the Bighorns, a one time thing that his old man had done against his will, but he didn't remember much from that trip. He did, however, remember a few times that the rodeo circuit had taken him to areas near the Tetons, and he'd go up into the mountains at night with a group of some other rodeo folk. They'd get drunk as hell and sit out under the stars joking around and telling stories. He'd never gone for the company. Truthfully, he'd never made any solid friends that he'd felt like spending time around, but the allure of the night sky seen from the mountains was always too strong. He would go up there with them, pass the bottle around, and then go off and sit by himself, tuning out the stories of their wild escapades and conquests. He'd sit on a rock and just stare up into the sky. Just stare and think about how small he was in comparison to all the sky above. Those were the memories he had of the mountains.

Jack was startled out of his thoughts by the next road sign.

_Riverton, 15 miles._

He swallowed hard and sped up. His engine rumbled a little and then the truck lurched, and he cut his eyes quick to his instrument panel. The light was still out, but he'd definitely felt something in his engine just then, and that worried him slightly. He took one more look at the speedometer and instrument panel and then returned his eyes to the road.

_"Jesus Christ. Yer almost there, Jack. Yer almost there. Can't believe ya actually had the balls to do this, can't believe yer actually in fuckin' Wyoming right now."_

He yawned and rubbed at his eyes with one hand. He was starting to feel all the miles he'd driven, but that didn't stop him from sitting straight up in his seat and pushing the pedal even closer to the floor. He had to get there soon or he was going to bust.

Jack'd stopped earlier at a diner in Colorado, and he'd tried to think up something to tell Ennis. He'd decided it would be best to keep his mouth shut about the story, figured he'd feel out the situation first, which meant he had no reason to give Ennis to explain his presence. He tried to think up some sort of lie that would make sense, came up with squat, and to top it all off, decided it would be wrong to lie to the man. So he'd run things around in his head, and had decided the only thing he _could_ do was tell the truth. Dilemma. It was like Catch 22. He remembered about Catch 22 because he'd seen the movie at the theaters in the early 70s. It was sort of like 'damned if you do, damned if you don't'. Which is exactly what he was. He knew that the only way to start off was by telling Ennis the truth; except he didn't think the truth was the best icebreaker. Jack could picture it now.

_"Hi, um, my name's Jack Twist, and I came here ta Riverton ta look you up after reading a book that was about me n' you bein' in love and havin' sex with each other fer twenty years. Can I come in?"_

Jack laughed despite his nerves and his serious problem. He laughed long and hard, and could barely catch his breath by the time his laughter started to die down. It comforted him that after all these years he could still find humor in almost anything.

Eventually Jack had decided to just leave it to up to fate.

_"Que sera, sera, as the song says."_

He wasn't sure how smart the idea was, but it was the only thing he could think to do.

A while back, Interstate 25 had turned into Highway 26, and he was approaching the exit he needed to get to Riverton. He eased his truck off onto the exit ramp and turned onto a small two-lane service road Looked pretty deserted, but then he saw another sign that showed Riverton was just a couple miles north or where he was. Jack turned his truck in the direction he needed and swiftly made his way to the town he'd been thinking about for the past two weeks.

* * *

Here he was. He'd finally found it. He had to ask several people around town if they knew where to find the address, but he'd gotten lucky with the last guy he'd asked, and here he sat.

He was parked on the street outside the tiny house; the sun had almost completely disappeared behind the trees. His house was small and white, not too run down, but not the Ritz either. All together it was pretty quiet, but there was a light on in one of the windows and that gave him hope.

He knew he couldn't just sit in the truck all evening, but he didn't think he could move. His legs were numb and there was a loud ringing in his ears. He couldn't do it. He couldn't get out of the truck. It was all too real, suddenly too horribly real. This is what he'd wanted, some definite proof, some answers to ease his mind, but now that the answer was just a few steps away, he couldn't do it.

He sat motionless watching a couple of kids playing down the street in the fading sunlight; the street lamps were just beginning to flicker on. The boys were messing around with a skateboard and Jack was amused by the fact that they could have been the same kids he'd met back in Cheyenne. Young kids were all the same; all had that innocent air about them. Sure they could be little devils at times, but they still had the look on their face of absolute naiveté. They were at a stage where they didn't know how cruel life could be, how imperfect the world was, and how bitter it all made you. Life's a bitch, and Jack yearned for the days when he hadn't known that, when he hadn't been plagued with worries about his son and granddaughter, or his marriage, or the business, or a book that had been written about his life.

He sighed and let his head fall forward into his hands. He had to do it. He knew it.

"_Seems like I've been in this same predicament a lot lately. Can't be healthy puttin' yerself through this kinda stress. Though none of it compares to this. Jest keeps getting' worse and worse each time. Let's jest hope that this will be the last, and I won't have to do it again. Might not survive another go around."_

Jack opened the door of his truck like a man in a fog. Somehow his legs _did_ have enough strength, even though he still couldn't feel them, and he managed to get himself up the first part of the drive. When he got to the walkway that led to his door, he stopped.

"_Oh Jesus, I can't do this. I know I can't. I'm gonna pass out, I'm gonna puke right on whoever opens the door. I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this."_

He was sweating intensely now and he considered running back to his truck and the safety of Texas for a brief moment. Brief was all it was though; he'd come too far to just turn around like a scared horse. Somehow he managed to get up the narrow walk and onto the concrete step in front of his door. He reached out a shaky hand and rang the doorbell.

Time stopped. Jack could hear his own ragged breathing loud in his ears, could feel his heart beating. Figured it might be loud enough to be heard from ten feet away.

"_Calm yerself down boy, ya don't want to look a mess when he answers the door, do ya?"_

He took in one more slow, deep breath and tried to relax his shoulders. Still no answer. He waited a moment longer and then rang the doorbell again. No answer.

"Fuck." He spat under his breath.

He tried looking through one of the window, but the blind were down. He went back down the walkway, his nerves momentarily forgotten, and checked the side of the house. There was a lean-to type garage with no car in it. Not a sign of him.

"_What the hell is with this guy? Why the fuck won't he ever answer me? I call and his phone is disconnected; I fuckin' drive to his fuckin' house in fuckin' WYOMING and he's not home!"_

Jack kicked a rock violently across the yard. That was that. He'd had enough. Ennis wasn't home and that was just as well.

"_It's a sign that this was a stupid idea. I should have never come. Seems like someone's been tryin' ta give me that message since I started, but when do I ever listen?"_

He walked back to the front door and stood there for a few more minutes. He considered waiting, maybe Ennis'd show up in a little bit, but he quickly tossed that idea aside. It was stupider than his idea to come to Riverton in the first place. What would he say to him when he came driving up? How would he explain what he was doing waiting on his front stoop?

Jack walked back to his truck angrier than he'd been in his life. He kicked his front tire, hurting his foot but ignoring the pain, and stood next to the driver side door, pinching the bridge of his nose. It sure had been a waste coming all the way to Wyoming. Sure had been a waste. But it just served him right, because he never should have come in the first place. He was a damned fool and he planned to not let himself forget that.

"_Let's leave the self loathing for the ride home, how's about it? Right now, I think yer best bet is ta get good n' drunk."_

He remembered passing a little bar not far from where he was and decided that was where he would spend his evening.

* * *

The bar he'd seen was called Bottom's Up and was on Sunset drive just a little outside the heart of Riverton. Jack pulled his truck, which was still behaving funny, into a parking spot and slowly got out. He looked up at the neon sign (dull in the semi darkness), figured this place was as good as any, and made his way to the single steel door at the entrance.

When he walked inside he immediately saw how dark and smoky the place was. Perfect. Just what he wanted. It also wasn't very crowded, which was surprising for a Friday night. Jack looked at his watch and saw that it was just five past eight, so he figured it hadn't gotten busy yet. He walked over to the bar and sat on one of the stools. There were two other people sitting at the bar, one was an extremely drunk, and extremely sweaty bald man who was talking in a loud voice to the female bartender. Jack figured he came here often. The other was a middle-aged guy sitting by himself on the opposite end of the bar. He was wearing a jean jacket and a light colored hat that was pulled low over his eyes. It looked like he was busy inspecting the wood grain on the bar countertop. Jack gave him a sidelong glance and then looked down at his hands.

_"I feel like shit. I'm tired and I jest wish I'd never pulled this stupid stunt. Jest wish I could forget all about it."_

"What can I get ya?"

Jack looked up at the bartender. She'd somehow torn herself away from the flirtatious drunk and was wiping down some glasses to his left.

"I'll have a Bud, please."

"Coming right up."

She walked to the other side of the bar and said something to the somber man Jack had noticed before. The man finally raised his head and said something back to the bartender. He was too far away and the room was too noisy for Jack to hear what he'd said. Jack held his gaze on the man a moment longer, then once again looked away.

_"Why does he keep catching my attention? He's not doing anything to draw it to himself, jest sittin' there quiet n' all."_

Jack figured it was the fact that he _was_ so quiet; he almost gave off an aura of silence, and amongst all the noise from the few boisterous drunks in the bar, his silent demeanor was striking. Not that it was all too uncommon to see a quiet guy in a bar, in fact, most times that's the way things were; people liked to keep to themselves when they were drinking alone.

Jack's thoughts were interrupted by the bar tender who had returned to his side of the bar with a Budweiser in hand.

"Enjoy." She left her post from behind the bar to attend the people scattered around.

Jack followed her with his eyes and turned in his stool, taking the place in. There was a jukebox in the corner that was playing some old Hank Williams tune, and some booths lined the far wall. A couple of guys and a frumpy looking woman were sitting in one, sharing a pitcher of beer. In the center of the room, there was a pool table, and that is where all the noise was coming from. There were four guys, must have been drunk as hell, singing along with the juke and waving their pool sticks around. The bar tender walked over to where they were playing, asked one big fella with curly hair if they needed anything else and presumably told him to quiet down a bit, because they were getting a little rowdy.

Jack turned when he heard the door open, and another couple walked in and sat at a booth. The bar tender went to where they sat, not too eager to take more orders, it seemed. He had to wonder if she was working by herself, seemed like a pretty tough place for just one female bartender, then figured she was probably short handed for the night, or maybe the next shift hadn't arrived yet.

Jack turned away from the rowdy scene, and found himself staring straight at the man sitting at the other end of the bar. The drunk who had been sitting between them had gotten up some time, most likely to go to the john, and had left Jack with a perfect sight line of the man with the hat pulled low over his eyes. He could tell that the man was pretty tall; there was a lot of leg bent underneath the bar, and how those legs were lean. His eyes made a trail from the man's worn leather boots back up to his face that was still turned down. Jack couldn't tell exactly how old he was, was guessing he was somewhere near his own age, maybe a couple of years younger. His hair, what he could see of it anyway, was kind of light, almost golden. Jack took in his strong jaw and curved shoulders. Looked like he'd had a hard day.

Suddenly, the man was starring back at Jack with a stern look on his face. Embarrassed, Jack turned away quickly and took a long swig of his beer.

_"Shit, he saw me lookin' at him. Seems like the type a' guy that'd kill ya jest fer lookin' funny at him."_

Jack stole one more glance and saw he was still looking his way.

_"Ah fuck. Please don't cause any trouble, jest wanna be left alone tonight. No trouble."_

He kept his gaze down for a long time and when he finally looked back the man had turned his eyes back to his beer. Jack's gaze lingered and then he turned away for the last time, not wanting to be caught looking again.

_"Sure is one sexy sonofabitch, though. I'll give him that."_

He sighed and took another drink of his beer, finishing it off.

_"Well Jack, that's the end. Yer career as a man is over. Ya just checked out another guy in a bar, congratulations."_

None of this would have happened if he hadn't read that book. None of it. He cursed that damned book to hell, and he cursed himself for buying it, for being intrigued by the cover and then going home and flipping to the end and reading that story. He cursed himself for not letting things be, for calling Annie Proulx's agent, and then looking up Ennis Del Mar's number, and for whacking off three times a day when he should have been out being a grandpa and a husband and a business man. But most of all, he cursed himself for getting in his truck and driving all the way to Wyoming on a whim. He hadn't thought things through, not _really_. But then Jack had always been like that, always doing things on the spur of the moment, always regretting it later. That's what had happened when he'd married Lureen.

It took him a minute to realize that someone was calling out to him, trying to get his attention. He turned to see who was bothering him, and noticed the man at the end of the bar turned to look as well. A short, skinny man with a gray cowboy hat on, one of the guys that had previously been singing along with the jukebox, was pointing his pool cue at Jack.

"Hey, hey there! Howsabout you come n' play a game a' pool with us, old man? Ya look like ya'd be mighty good at gettin' them balls in the pocket, if ya know what I mean." He laughed loud and some spit ran down the side of his mouth.

Jack swallowed hard. "No that's all right. Look's like you got that all covered."

He turned his back on them again and took a handful of peanuts out of a bowl to his right. Tried to convince himself that the guy wasn't incredibly intuitive and was just being nasty for the hell of it. He figured if he could make himself inconspicuous enough, no one would bother him and eventually they'd just forget he was there all together. He didn't notice that now the man at the end of the bar was studying _him_ from under the brim of his hat.

Jack heard the drunken men behind him guffaw some more and then there was a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head just enough to see the big guy with curly hair, the one the bar tender had talked to. He had his sleeves rolled up and a glazed look in his eyes. Seemed like he wasn't done with these assholes after all.

"Looky, looky, looky. Fellas, look here! This cowboy's sittin' on my stool."

Jack took a look around and noticed all eyes were on him.

"Hey come on, I don't want no trouble."

"Well, looks like ya were asking fer trouble when ya came n' sat on this here stool."

Jack turned to fully face the large man. He held his hands, palms out, in front of him in an 'easy' gesture.

"Let's not get excited, here, okay? The chair didn't have yer name written on it."

"Everyone that comes 'round here knows that there's my stool. Don't need my name stamped on it."

The other three men stepped away from the pool table and stood behind the big guy, who was apparently their leader. Jack quickly saw where this was going. Seemed like his luck just kept getting worse and worse as the day wore on. He managed to keep his cool and put on his soothing voice, the one he used to calm angry store managers.

"All right. I can see that I was wrong. I'll let ya have yer chair back, and we don't have to have no trouble, how's that sound? Hell, I'll even buy you boys some beers."

It didn't appear they were taking the bait. The big man suddenly grabbed Jack by the front of his shirt and brought him roughly to his feet. Jack could smell the liquor on his breath, and realized they must've been drinking since that afternoon. He should have known that his calm voice wouldn't have the same affect on a big, angry drunk man.

"Looks like we got ourselves a real smooth operator, huh boys? A real fuckin' gentleman. You must not be from 'round here, and that means it must not be yer lucky day, cuz I _hate_ strangers, and I hate smooth talkers even more."

Jack looked over the man's shoulder at the three others behind him and saw their good humor had quickly turned to aggression. Wasn't sure there was much of a way out of this. All the rest of the people in the bar, including the bartender, who'd sat down at the booth with the two men and the woman, were completely silent and wearily watching the scene that was unfolding. The bar tender called out from where she was sitting.

"Dale, don't go causing no trouble now, ya don't want me callin' the police."

Some good that did. Didn't appear they'd heard a word she'd said. Jack looked back at the ugly bastard that had him by the collar and did the only thing he could think to do.

He kicked him hard in the balls with his boot as quickly as he could, and got out from his grip when he doubled over. In seconds the others were on him. Jack reached out and punched the person closest to him, a guy with a baseball cap, hard on the side of the mouth, knocking the cap off his head. The short one with the cowboy hat, who'd heckled Jack in the first place, came up from the side and hit Jack square on the temple and then kneed him in the stomach, bringing him to his knees retching and ready to black out.

Just then, Jack felt someone step to his right. He opened his eyes and saw a pair of worn leather boots. It was the man from the other end of the bar! He slugged the guy who'd gotten Jack and then grabbed the pool cue out of the third man's hands and hit him on the back of the head with it. Jack looked up from his hunched position on the floor and saw that now the two guys who'd been sitting with the large woman had also gotten up and joined the fight. Then he felt two strong hands under each of his arms and he was pulled back on his feet.

"You all right?"

He stood blinking, his vision still a little blurry, at the man who he'd originally thought he might have trouble with, the guy he'd been looking up and down. From this close he could see his face clearly and noticed his eyes were chocolate brown and surprisingly concerned.

"Uh…yeah. Think so."

Jack heard some glass break and saw that the bar fight had turned to an uncontrollable melee. It appeared there were more people in the bar than he'd thought, because now there were about ten men full out battling each other.

"They prob'ly don't even remember why the fight started in the first place."

Jack looked back over at the man who'd helped him up, surprised at the genial tone of his voice despite it's deep, throaty pitch. He didn't seem like the type that talked to strangers much, but maybe Jack'd just read him wrong. A beer bottle sailed past Jack's head, and he ducked just in time to miss it. He saw the bar tender in the corner on the phone, most likely calling the police. The man at his side grabbed him by the arm.

"Come on, let's get outta here 'fore the cops come. Last thing I need's to get arrested."

They managed to slip past the brawl and out the door. A few steps into the parking lot Jack realized that he hadn't paid for his beer.

"Oh, shit. Hold on a second." He turned to go back inside.

"Where the hell're you goin'? Ya cain't go back in there!"

"Just hold on," Jack threw over his shoulder. He snuck back inside, slid a few crinkled dollar bills down the bar and then slipped back out the door without a scratch. The man who'd saved his ass was standing under the neon sign lighting a cigarette. He looked up when Jack came out.

"Warned ya not ta go back in there." He mumbled around his cigarette. He closed his lighter and then looked at Jack, held out his pack of smokes.

Jack starred hard at the pack, shoved away any thoughts he had of refusing, and took one, letting the tall man light it for him.

Jack inhaled smoke into his lungs and then blew it out his nose. "Forgot ta pay fer ma beer."

The man gave him an odd look. "Yer crazy."

Jack laughed. "Maybe I am."

There was a minute of comfortable silence, which Jack eventually broke.

"Thanks fer helpin' me out back there, sure do appreciate it. Getting' too old ta take four guys on at once."

"No problem. Jest thought ya could use a hand."

Jack was inspecting the stranger's mannerisms with a quirked smile. He liked this guy, didn't know why, but he seemed all right. He looked out into the now completely dark parking lot towards his truck.

He inhaled again, not as deep this time, and then looked up at the stars. "Jesus. Sure was a mess in there."

The other man gave him a sidelong glance. "Yeah. Sure was. Happens a lot though. Them boys are assholes, always drunker than sailors, always ready ta pick a fight." He took another drag of his cigarette.

"Didn't mean to cause no trouble. Didn't know that guy had a fuckin' stool that he reserved."

The other man spit on the ground. "He don't. Was jest messin' with ya. Like I said, they're always causin' trouble, specially with outta towners."

Jack looked at him. "How'd ya know I was from outta town?"

He held his gaze to the ground. "Well first off, never seen ya 'round here, which is a pretty good tip off. Second, no one in Riverton can afford a leather jacket like yers."

Jack, surprised, looked down at his leather jacket, immediately ashamed, though for reasons he couldn't explain. The man never took his eyes off the ground.

"And then there's yer accent. Don't sound like it's from 'round here."

He was astounded at this man's perception. It hadn't seemed like he took his eyes off his own beer the whole time he'd been in there, and apparently he already had Jack all figured out. Jack let out a short laugh and then held out his hand.

"My name's Jack Twist. Pleased to meet ya, uh…"

The man looked up, put his cigarette firmly between his lips, and shook Jack's hand.

"Ennis. Ennis Del Mar."

To Be Continued...


	6. Chapter 6

The blood drained from Jack's face. He was shaking _Ennis Del Mar's_ hand. Ennis Del Mar was the man that had been sitting at the other end of the bar!

_"Holy mother fuckin' shit! It's Ennis. This is Ennis. Holy shit!"_

Jack realized that Ennis was looking at him funny from under the brim of his hat, and then Jack smiled and firmed his grip. He pumped Ennis' hand up and down a couple times.

"Well, nice to know ya, Ennis Del Mar."

Jack tried to keep the smile firmly planted on his face, but he found it was too hard to keep up the charade. He couldn't handle this. His brain couldn't compute what was going on. He felt a little dizzy and his vision started blurring up again. The world suddenly tilted completely on its side and Jack felt like he had to grab onto something to keep standing up straight. He needed to sit down, maybe put his head between his knees.

_"Holy shit. Don't faint! Don't you dare faint like a little girl in front of Ennis Del Mar!"_

He could feel bile start to rise in the back of his throat and he blinked and swallowed hard. He tried to settle himself by taking deep breaths, talk his body out of its weak feeling, but couldn't and he stumbled a little. Ennis, who'd gone back to looking out into the parking lot at nothing in particular, saw Jack stumble and turned back to him.

"Hey there, you sure yer okay? Do ya need ta sit down?"

All Jack could do was nod, and then his legs gave out from under him. He sat down hard on the curb and let the world settle back around him. He still felt completely off balance, and his head fell forward into his right hand. Ennis sat down next to him.

"Jesus! Ya look terrible. Do I need ta call an ambulance?"

Jack looked at Ennis, looked into his deep brown eyes and saw the concern that had no right being there. A part of Jack melted then. He worked his mouth up and down, trying to get the words out that he knew were in there somewhere.

"I'm fine. I jest…guess that son of a bitch got me harder than I thought."

Jack laughed a little, more to calm himself than anything else. Ennis was still looking at him, then finally turned away, took another drag of his cigarette.

"Well ya know, blows to the side a' the head can be pretty serious. Got kicked in the head by a mare once, nearly put me in a coma."

"Yeah well, I'm sure there's a pretty big difference 'tween gettin' kicked in the head by a horse and gettin' punched by a scrawny guy in a bar fight."

Ennis smirked. "True enough."

Jack finally felt like he was getting control of himself. It was just…finding out that _this_ man was Ennis Del Mar, well that had been too much for Jack to bear. He still couldn't think about it, couldn't wrap his mind around the idea, but he was at least beyond the point of heart failure. Wasn't so sure a minute ago.

_"That kind of a shock is enough to give even the healthiest man a heart attack. I'm surprised I didn't collapse right out."_

He took in a few more deep breaths and closed his eyes.

"You sure ya don't want me to call an ambulance, or nothin'?"

Jack opened his eyes and noticed he was once more under Ennis' scrutiny. Jack shook his head, looking down, noticed that he must have dropped his smoke.

"Nah, honestly, I'm fine. But ya know what I do need?"

Ennis starred at him blankly. "What?"

"Well, I could use another cigarette, if'n ya don't mind."

Ennis reached back into his shirt pocket for the pack of smokes, gave one to Jack and lit it for him again. Jack inhaled deep once more.

_"Sure could get use ta this. They may cause cancer, but what the hell, we all gotta die in the end, don't we?"_

Jack suddenly realized that they couldn't just sit on the curb lookin' like a couple of hoodlums, especially since the police were on their way. He saw that Ennis was getting a little antsy and probably already had the same thought.

_" Can't jest let it end right here! Think up somethin' to say, quick!"_

Jack could always rely on his friendly demeanor and quick thinking to win in the end. He took a fast puff of his cigarette and then cautiously stood.

"Tell you what, Ennis Del Mar, I know _I_ sure haven't had my fill a' drinkin' fer the night, and don't seem like you have neither. How 'bout I buy ya a couple a' beers?"

Ennis stood up slowly, his expression hard to read in the darkness.

"Ya don't mean back in there, right?" He gestured back at Bottom's Up with his thumb.

Jack frowned and then realized that he was playing with him.

"Shit no, boy! What, do ya think I'm really that crazy?"

Ennis chuckled softly. "Jest checkin'."

Another silence fell over them. Jack wasn't sure what else needed to be said. Surprisingly, Ennis spoke up first.

"There's another little joint a short ways from here on Freemont Avenue, called the Cedar Bar. We can head over there, if ya want."

Boy did he ever want that. He wanted more than that too, but all he could do was nod his head. They both headed to their own trucks, neither of them wanting to stand around outside Bottom's Up any longer. Jack agreed to follow Ennis, and watched the man climb into a fairly beat up Chevrolet. He savored the way his legs looked climbing into the tall cab. Jack shook himself, cut short his ogling, and climbed into his own F-150. He turned the ignition and the engine rumbled, resisted and then grudgingly started. Jack was becoming increasingly worried about his truck, was beginning to think that there was more wrong with it than Karl had thought.

_"Burned out light bulb, my ass. Jest hope it doesn't cause me too much trouble till I get the chance to have it checked out again."_

He put his pick-up in reverse and pulled in behind the Chevrolet that was waiting for him near the exit of the parking lot. As they pulled out onto the road, a cop car came racing out of the distance, siren blaring. Looked like they'd left just in time.

Jack rolled his head from side to side, massaging his neck. His muscles were sore from driving all day and he could feel a deep exhaustion waiting below the surface to take hold of him. At the moment though, he wasn't sleepy at all. He was wide-awake, felt like he was hopped up on caffeine, almost. He just couldn't believe that Ennis was _this_ guy! It spooked the hell out of him. He'd gone all the way to Wyoming to seek him out, and it turned out that Ennis had found _him_, sort of.

_"He saved me from gettin'_ _one hell of a beatin'. He helped me out, made sure I was okay, was concerned about me, and he doesn't even know who I am."_

Jack thought about his dark brown eyes and lean body, then immediately his thoughts wandered to the story's 'tent scene'. He blinked hard, as though he were trying to ward off the images of him and that man in the tent. He thought on Ennis' stern jaw and deep voice, and could easily imagine him turning Jack over and grabbing at his hips and…

_"Shit boy. This ain't the time or the place fer this kind of stuff. Just stop it."_

His face was flushed and his dick was tingling. He so badly wanted to pull over and jerk off, but knew that was a ridiculous thought. Of course, what he really wanted to do was get Ennis to pull over with him and feel _his_ hands on him. That's what he really wanted.

_"What yer experiencing right now, this thing that's got hold a' ya, it's jest infatuation. You've let yerself obsess over this story cause ya were bored with yer life and most of all yer sex life, and then ya found somethin' strange and captivating and ya let yerself get swept away. That's all it is. After thinkin' on the story and 'Ennis' fer nearly three weeks, of course yer gonna get a little crazy when ya finally meet him."_

Jack was trying his hardest to convince himself that this was all just a phase, another whim to entertain him. But it was hard to do. Heck, he hadn't written the story, someone else had done that, and the fact that it was about him just…didn't seem possible. He would've had to been stone dead in the ground not to obsess over something that _miraculous_. And to top it all off, Jack had been looking at and appreciating the sight of Ennis _before he knew it was him!_ He couldn't over look that.

_"So he's a good lookin' guy. I'm sure I'm not the first man to appreciate a handsome man."_

But try as he may, he just didn't have a very strong case.

_"Straight men might acknowledge a good lookin' man, but they sure as hell don't check 'em out when they're in a bar and they definitely don't get a hard on thinkin' on it."_

Fuck it. Fuck it all to hell. That's what Jack thought about the whole situation.

_"Just have a drink with him and that'll be all, go on home and forget it."_

Forget those eyes? Forget the concern that had been in them? Jack's stomach fluttered at the thought.

He was so distracted with his thoughts that he kept driving when Ennis made a right into the parking lot of the Cedar Bar. Jack hit hard on his brakes and made a U-turn, then pulled into the parking space next to Ennis' older Chevrolet. When the engine was off, he steeled himself and got out of the truck, excited, yet apprehensive about having a few more drinks with this man.

Ennis was already waiting near the tailgate of his pick up. He smiled slightly as Jack approached.

"Thought you was gonna drive on by, back there. Thought maybe ya didn't wanna spend the money on drinks after all."

"Hell no. Satan himself couldn't keep me from a beer right now."

They walked into the bar together, the whole way keeping a friendly distance. The Cedar Bar was bigger than Bottom's Up and more colorful. There were several neon signs on the inside that cast a multicolored glare and lightened up the darkness. There were more people here, more women Jack noticed, and a small dance floor where some were line dancing to music from the large stereo system.

They made their way over to a booth and sat down. As soon as they were seated a young girl with a big smile on her face and a tray in her hands came over.

"Welcome, fellas. What can I get ya?"

Jack nodded for Ennis to order first, a bud, and then he ordered himself the same. The waitress left and Jack looked down at his wringing hands. He wasn't sure what to say. After a moment of silence he finally decided that Ennis wasn't planning on being the first to speak, so Jack asked the first thing that came to his mind.

"What's it ya do, Ennis Del Mar?"

Ennis didn't answer because the waitress had returned with their two beers. She set them down on the table and then sashayed off to another table. Ennis took a swig of beer.

"I'm a ranch hand. Work with horses and cows mostly. Move around a lot, but I've been working with a foreman name a' Stoutamire fer a time now."

_Stoutamire_. Jack knew the name. Had read it in Brokeback Mountain. He tried to keep natural and not act like the world around him was falling to pieces.

Ennis took another sip of his beer. "What 'bout you?"

"Well, I co-own a farming equipment comp'ny back in Texas, but I'm practically retired now. I only go inta the office 'bout two times a week."

Ennis nodded. "Yeah, my daughter Junior's been tryin' ta get me ta retire now fer five years. Says I'm gettin' too old ta keep up with such rough labor." He shrugged. "I keep tellin' her that it keeps me healthy."

They talked about work some more and ordered more beers when they finished what they had. Eventually there conversation turned to marriage.

"So are ya married?" Ennis asked.

Jack laughed and undid the first few buttons of his shirt. The boos were starting to take effect.

"Yeah. Thirty-four years next month. Don't know how the hell I've survived all these years."

"You n' yer wife not get along then?"

Jack smiled and shook his head, thinking about his relationship with Lureen.

"Ya see, the thing with Lureen is, the only one she gets along jest fine with is herself. She's a hard headed ol' woman, and she can be a right bitch at times."

He started in on his fourth beer of the evening.

"Me n' Lureen, we get along okay as long as we don't have to see each other that much. Figure that's why our marriage has lasted this long. I should write a book, 'Jack Twist's Secret to the Perfect Marriage: Pretending Your Spouse Doesn't Exist'. Couples all over the world would thank me."

Ennis chuckled and ordered another round of drinks.

"Me n' ma ex-wife Alma never got along too well, neither."

Jack nearly choked on his mouthful of beer. "Yer divorced then?"

Ennis nodded. "Yep. Been divorced since November a' 75. Best thing fer the both of us, but I did miss seein' my girls all the time."

"Did ya ever get remarried?"

He shook his head. "Never felt the need to. Figured I jest wasn't the marryin' kind. Don't need any other women asides my two girls anyway."

Jack took a quick look at that man sitting across from him and then his eyes dropped down. The hours were going by fine, Jack was having a great time, he'd forgotten about his inner conflict and the bizarre circumstances that had taken place. He was too busy shooting the breeze with Ennis. Conversation came naturally between them, and though Ennis was a little more reserved, and mainly listened to Jack blabber, he was nothing if not friendly. In fact, he was down right pleasant. One of the sincerest guys Jack had ever met, even though he was quiet. Most of the people Jack had to have dealings with where business people and they had a tendency to be full of shit. Jack liked the fact that even though Ennis talked little, what he _did_ say was direct and rang with truth. Jack also found as the evening continued, and the beers bottles continued to collect at their booth, that Ennis Del Mar was becoming increasingly attractive. He'd had time now to study his face and though it was the face of an older man, as his own was, he was still immensely handsome. Jack's eyes twinkled when Ennis would open his mouth to speak, and found he liked watching his lips move, found himself wondering what it would be like to have those lips make a trail down his neck and chest.

Their conversation continued on, switching from one topic to the other, Ennis told Jack about castrating cows, Jack told Ennis about traveling to farm machinery expos, until Jack happened to bring up his granddaughter, Eliza. He fished out her school picture from his wallet and showed it to Ennis.

"Ain't she jest the prettiest thing ya ever did see?"

"She sure is a might pretty. Big ol' blue eyes."

Jack smiled. "Yeah, that's a Twist family trait."

They looked at each other for a minute in silence. Ennis nodded his head in agreement and looked down at his hands. Jack looked away to observe the people sitting at the bar. He finally brought his attention back to the man sitting across from him.

"Do ya have any grandchildren?"

Ennis looked at his hands and didn't answer for a while. His jaw tensed a little and he took another swig of beer. Jack sat uncomfortable waiting for an answer. He thought he might've struck a nerve, but wasn't sure why.

Finally Ennis looked back up at Jack, his jaw relaxed, his expression open, only partly because of all the beers.

"I do. I have a grandson. Brandon. He lives with his mama, my youngest daughter Francine in California. They don't visit much, so I hardly ever see him. He'll be thirteen in December."

Ennis was quiet again. Jack waited patiently for him to continue.

"My oldest daughter, Alma Junior, well, she can't have no children. She's tried and tried, cuz she wants ta be a mother somethin' bad, and God knows she'd make a great one, but, bless her heart, she jest can't."

Jack was silent. He had no idea that he'd opened such a huge can of worms. He felt terrible about bringing it up, would never want to cause Ennis any sort of added pain, but told himself that he couldn't have known. He knew a lot of other things about Ennis Del Mar from what he'd read (which so far had all turned out to be true) but this was something that the book didn't tell, couldn't tell because the story ended in 1983. It was a sharp reminder that the man in front of him was not fictional, not at all. He was real and had a life, and could get hurt like anyone else. He wanted to reach out and touch him then, be he didn't.

"Hasn't she thought about adopting?"

Ennis sat back against the booth and took in a deep breath.

"Sure has. She's been on the waiting list ta be approved by the adoption agency fer sev'ral years now. Their hesitant ta give the go ahead cuz Junior and her husband don't make too much money."

Jack nodded. "Shit. I fuckin' hate red tape. Wish those bureaucratic assholes would jest see that a loving home is a thousand times better than no home."

Ennis sat blinking at Jack. He examined him a little longer, then shrugged.

"Yeah, well, whatever will be will be."

"…Exactly."

Jack'd had those exact thoughts when he was still in the car driving to Riverton. He shook his head and leaned forward in the booth, repositioning himself because his right foot was starting to go to sleep.

"Do ya see yer older daughter often?"

Ennis nodded his head, also repositioning himself a little. "Yep. She lives here in Riverton, not too far from my place. She's the one who convinced me ta move closer ta her a little while after she got married. Used ta live in a little shack on the outskirts a' town, wasn't too good, bein' out there by myself all the time. Told me it wasn't healthy and somehow got me ta sell my horses and fork over the dough fer a down payment." He smiled to himself. "She certainly is the bright spot in my life. Always was."

Jack knew how that went, which made him think back on his little girl Eliza, wondered if she missed him much.

The night wore on. The drinks continued to flow, and finally a drunker, looser Ennis looked at his watch.

"Shee-it. S'already one in the mornin'. I gotta get up at five."

Jacks eyes widened. "What n' the hell ya gotta get up at five fer?"

"Gotta go ta work."

"On a Saturday?"

Ennis chuckled. "Yeah. Ranchin's a full time job, Twist. May seem strange to a nine ta five businessman, but I've been workin' on Saturdays since I been a boy."

Jack shook his head in amazement. He laughed.

"Couldn't imagine gettin' up at five on a Saturday mornin' these days. Seems wrong."

They both laughed and Jack got the tab. It was a little pricey, but Jack was able to convince Ennis to let him pay for it.

"S'posed ta be a thank ya fer savin' my ass."

Ennis stood up from the booth. "Oh yeah. Fergot 'bout that. Them boys was goin' ta wipe the floor with ya."

Jack stood, woozily, leaving the cash on the table. "Hey now! I coulda held 'em back, if'n I had to!"

"So what, ya were jest pretendin' ta be hurt and fell ta the ground fer the hell of it?"

Jack punched Ennis hard on the arm as they stumbled their way out of the bar.

"Shut up, asshole."

Ennis chuckled again and then they were outside. The moon was completely out now, bright as could be, and the air had gotten considerable cooler.

Jack shivered despite his leather jacket. "Jesus! Sure did get cold! Isn't it June?"

"It's the mountain air comin' down from the north." He looked out in the distance towards the mountains. "Might even snow tonight up there, even though it's early."

Jack shook his head and wrapped his arms across his chest. "Well I guess I jest got used ta Texas weather. Summer's summer, down there."

They continued to their trucks and Jack's good humor suddenly disappeared when he realized that this was it. They were about to part ways. When they got to the tailgates of their trucks they both stopped and turned towards each other.

Jack looked long at Ennis. Finally he stuck out his hand.

"Well, Ennis, it's been nice talkin' with ya. Had a good time."

Ennis shook his hand. "Same here."

Their handshake lingered for a while. It was firm, but not as firm as it had been earlier because now the men were tired and quite drunk. Jack let go first and got hurriedly into his truck. He didn't know what else to say. He couldn't say anything else. He hadn't even said a word of goodbye. It was too much to part ways with the man that had fast become his friend. He didn't want to leave, but he knew he had too.

He put his key in the ignition and tried to clear his head. He knew it wasn't a good idea to be driving off drunk, but what else could he do? He turned the key. Nothing. Not even a moan or a shutter, just nothing. Jack rubbed roughly at his face and once again tried to focus his thoughts. He turned the key again, harder this time. The truck was dead. Completely dead.

"Shit." He muttered under his breath.

There was a tap at his window. Jack looked up and saw Ennis standing there with a sleepy expression on his face. Jack sighed and motioned for Ennis to back up so he could open his door and get out.

"Car trouble?" Ennis asked as Jack slammed the door of his truck.

"Yeah. Fuck. I can't believe it. It's brand new. I had some trouble with it earlier today on the road, but had it checked out and was told that everythin' was okay."

"I can take a look at yer engine if ya want."

Jack nodded and opened the driver side door again so he could pop the hood. Ennis stepped in front of the pick up and lifted it up. He messed around inside the engine for a couple minutes and then shut it. He came back around to Jack.

"I'm gonna be honest with ya, I can't see shit. But, the whole thing jest looks like a big jumbled mess ta me right now, it bein' so late n' me bein' so drunk."

Jack kicked at the ground. "Shit."

"Sorry, bud."

Jack bit at his lip, thinking. "Should I call a tow truck?"

"Too late now, Riverton's a small town and there aren't any 24 hour tow services."

"Don't have a phone ta call no how."

Jack rubbed at his neck. Ennis looked at his boots.

"Well I can drive ya ta wherever yer stayin'. I don't mind."

Jack's head snapped up at that comment. _"Damnit! Forgot all about that! I don't got nowhere to stay! Great fuckin' job, Twist. Way ta thinks things through."_

Jack looked around the parking lot sheepishly.

"Well thanks fer the offer, but I…uh…don't have no where ta stay right now. It kinda slipped my mind. I…uh…jest meant ta be passin' through."

Ennis was silent. Jack couldn't see his face because his head was turned down and his hat was once more pulled low over his eyes. Finally he looked back up at Jack.

"Well its late, so…ya can stay with me fer the night if ya wanna. Get yer truck towed to a body shop in the mornin'. I got a perfectly good sofa that ya can use."

Jack was still. He was starring over Ennis' shoulder at some more people coming out of the bar. He was looking at them, but not really seeing them because his mind was full of heavy thoughts. As heavy as a drunk man can handle. He was eager to say yes, but was trying to imagine what it would be like to be inside that man's house, sleeping on the couch while _he_ slept only a few feet away. He shivered again and closed his leather jacket tighter around him.

"All right. Awful nice a' you ta offer."

Jack got his bag out of his truck and then they both hopped into Ennis' Chevrolet. Ennis started the car and turned the heat up. Jack gave him an appreciative nod. Ennis drove slowly, being real careful not to do anything reckless. Jack watched the night sky from the passenger window. It was all he could do. The ride to Ennis' house was silent.

* * *

Ennis unlocked the front door and let Jack go inside in front of him. He locked the door behind him when he was inside too. Jack looked around, squinting because it was dark, but there was enough moonlight streaming in through the windows that he could see he was standing in a small, tidy living room. Of course there wasn't much to be messy.

Ennis walked past him and put his keys on a table next to a recliner.

"Well I gotta get ta bed. Like I said, gotta be up in a couple hours. The couch is right there, and the bathroom's down the hall on the left."

He pointed to a short hallway that connected to the kitchen.

"Feel free ta eat somethin' from the kitchen in the mornin'. I don't got much, but I'm sure ya can find somethin' in there ta tempt ya."

Jack just nodded and stood in the small living room looking like a lost little boy.

Ennis waited there a minute longer.

"Well make yerself at home. I'll see ya tomorrow, I guess."

Jack watched Ennis turn to walk into the kitchen. He called him back.

"Hey Ennis?"

Ennis turned. "What?"

Jack sighed. "Thanks. Fer everythin'. You been a real friend."

Ennis smiled. "Yeah well…yer welcome."

They stood there for a moment just looking at each other and then Ennis turned to go to bed.

Jack watched him go and then ambled over to the couch and sat down. He sat there in a daze, starring at the duffle bag at his feet. Well, here he was. He had met Ennis Del Mar, had gone out drinking with him, and now was sitting just a few feet from where he was sleeping. It was unbelievable. Completely fucking unbelievable.

He yawned and stretched his arms up above his head. His mind was still foggy, would probably wake up with a hell of a hangover in the morning. He took his boots off and stretched out on Ennis Del Mar's couch, crossed his feet and the ankle and put one hand beneath his head. He listened to his own breathing and stared at the ceiling, watching the lights dance as a car passed the small white house.

He thought on everything they had talked about that night. Thought on the way Ennis had looked at him after he'd mentioned that blue eyes were a Twist family trait. Seemed like Ennis had looked as deep into Jack's big blue eyes as Jack'd looked into Ennis' chocolate brown. He thought about how Ennis had punched the guy that had slugged Jack, and thought about how he'd lifted him gently back to his feet and asked him if he was all right. Most of all though, he thought on the concern he'd seen in Ennis' eyes when Jack had sat down on the curb. He had just been being friendly to Jack, making sure he was okay. Anyone would have done the same thing if they'd seen him fall down on the street, but…there was something more. At least that was how it'd seemed. And then there was the feeling Jack had gotten. It had felt like something tight in his chest had suddenly unfurled, it had felt like…well he wasn't sure, but he knew he wanted to have that feeling again.

He yawned again and turned his head so all he could see was the material of the gray couch. He closed his eyes. He was too tired and too drunk to really argue with himself much. All he could do was acknowledge the night's events as truths.

Jack's mind drifted over to the fact that Ennis was sleeping just a little ways from him. He had to wonder what he'd look like asleep. Figured his face relaxed all the way, and he'd no longer look guarded. Jack wished he could see his face sleeping, wished he knew what it looked like, wished he knew everything about the man. As the minutes wore on and Jack drifted closer and closer to the brink of sleep, he found he wished many things that couldn't be.


	7. Chapter 7

Ennis Del Mar woke before five, wind hissing around the sides of his house and hitting hard against his bedroom window. He got out of bed grudgingly, knowing he had to be at work in a little while, but longing for the comfort of his cool sheets and pillow that molded to his body and soothed his aching head.

He stumbled into the bathroom for a piss and flicked on the light, causing his head to pound a little harder and his stomach to lurch.

_"Shoulda known better than ta been drinkin' till all hours a' the night. Should know better by now."_

But Ennis Del Mar was a sensible man, and usually he _did_ know better. He hardly ever drank to the point of drunkenness, at least not these days. The days when he was a heavy drinker had been when he was married to Alma. But since he'd gotten divorced, and more level headed he liked to tell himself, he'd learned how to control his drinking and many other things in lieu of working harder than ever to pay child support. Of course he'd always been an extremely dedicated worker, but he'd had to put in extra hours to be able to afford his own place _and_ pay the $125 a month for Junior and Francine. He learned how to limit himself to a couple of beers on Friday or Saturday night, and he'd never let himself get too carried away, no matter how poorly he was feeling or who might be there encouraging him. Now, he was long past having to pay child support, but the habit had stuck through the years.

So Ennis wasn't used to waking up with a hangover and having to go to work, and this morning, his hangover was particularly wicked. His stomach felt sour and nervous, and his head hurt so badly he could barely keep his eyes open. It was rough.

He turned the light back off to ease the sharp pain shooting from his right eye to the back of his skull and went about his morning business. When he was brushing his teeth (trying hard not to gag because he'd never had the strongest of stomachs) he found himself wondering exactly what had happened the night before. He knew he was out drinking, but in his foggy haze, he couldn't remember why one earth he'd let himself get so out of control. He cut his tooth brushing short, spitting the extra paste into the sink, and shuffled back to his bedroom to get dressed. He sat on the edge of his bed and pulled on his jeans and boots and buttoned up his shirt, too tired and woozy to stand and dress.

Another strong gust of wind whistled around the small house as Ennis walked slowly into the dark kitchen. He steeled himself before switching on the light, but he needed to see what he was doing so he could make some coffee and take some aspirin. His eyesight had never been too good and as he got older it had just gotten worse. Junior finally convinced him to see the optometrist in Atlantic City, just a ways west in Fremont County. He'd gotten a pair of glasses, but Ennis, stubborn as a mule, refused to wear them because he didn't like the way they felt on his ears and nose. His daughter kept telling him that his eyesight would only get worse if he didn't wear them and Ennis would shrug and grunt in response. He'd never needed no glasses before, and he didn't need them now. Junior would roll her eyes and tell him he was impossible, which would only make Ennis smirk to himself, secretly amused at how Junior had taken to mothering Ennis as he'd gotten older.

_"Life goes on and the next thing ya know, yer kids are takin' care a' you."_

Ennis chuckled as he started the morning coffee and then immediately regretted it because laughing only made his head ache worse. While the coffee brewed, he pulled out a bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet and popped a couple in his mouth without water. He had always found they worked quicker when they were chewed, and he liked the bitter taste.

Ennis walked into the living room to turn on the TV. He wanted to see what the weather was going to be like during the day, hoped that maybe the wind would die down because he didn't feel like working out in the cold for long. He picked up the remote that was sitting on the table next to his recliner, and then froze when he caught sight of the man sprawled out on his couch. Recognition hit him like an arrow and all at once he remembered what had taken place the night before. Ennis smiled despite his mood and his headache at the sight of Jack Twist laying on his stomach with his mouth open against the sofa cushion, black/gray hair sticking up in every direction. He set the remote back on the table, not wanting to wake the sleeping man on the sofa, and figured he would have to deal with the weather no matter _what_ it turned out to be. He picked up the afghan that Junior had crocheted him for his last birthday and laid it over Jack's softly snoring form.

He headed back into the kitchen and sat at the small wooden diner table, lopsided grin firmly planted on his face. Now he remembered why he'd drank so much, was surprised he could've forgotten. He'd been out with Jack, who he'd just met the night before, but already felt was an old friend. He guessed there were some people who just hit it off right away.

Ennis had never been very good at making friends, had never been good at being talkative and sociable. He was a loner, had been born that way, and try as he may was never been able to tear the trait out of him. He'd never really wanted to, though, because honestly he liked keeping to himself. There were guys at work who were always real friendly with him, tried to get him to come out of his shell by asking him to hang out with a group of their buddies at this bar or that. Ennis would sometimes indulge himself and go, but he was never real keen on the idea. He was a serious guy, worked hard, and loved his two daughters, and that's all. He didn't need or want to be with anyone besides his family, which now mostly consisted of Junior and sometimes extended to her husband Curt. His younger daughter, Francine, had gotten a scholarship through church to go to a Christian college, and, being the adventurer she was, had chosen to go out of state, something he'd never dreamed of or had the courage to do. She'd moved to California, and some how or another found herself in an 'artsy' crowd which eventually landed her in San Francisco working at a homeless shelter and pregnant out of wedlock. She visited once every few years and brought her son with her, but between the visits, he never heard much word from her. So Ennis spent most of his free time alone or with Junior. No need for friends.

But something about Jack Twist…well, something about him was different. Ennis had immediately been drawn to him. He'd seen Jack when they were in the bar, before the fight broke out. Ennis had noticed he was starring at him, could feel a set of eyes looking in his direction. Of course, Ennis' first reaction had been anger; he'd wanted to know who this guy was and why he was acting as though he'd never seen another human being in a bar before. He'd given the man a cold glare, daring him to keep on starring, wanting to be left alone after a long day at work. The glare worked.

But after seeing how the man had handled himself in response to a lewd comment from Joe Casey, one of Riverton's well known troublemakers, Ennis had found himself suddenly intrigued by this stranger. He'd studied him, taken in his dark, expensive seeming jacket and hat, the hunched way he sat at the bar, and the sad, somehow defeated look he had on his face. His study was interrupted when Dale Jefferson and his cronies (including Joe Casey) had found the man interesting enough to trouble.

Ennis had witnessed the scene unfold in silence with the rest of Bottom's Up's faithful patrons, but slowly, coldness had settled itself at the base of his spine and begun to work its way up his body. He could feel his hands clench into fists. He didn't want to sit and watch those drunken hicks pick on the man at the far side of the bar. Ennis was usually the type to keep to his own business, always left when a fight broke out (unless it involved him of course), but _this_ time he felt he couldn't just walk away and leave the poor guy to the hounds. Truth was, Ennis felt bad for him, he looked like a nice enough guy and he certainly didn't deserve to get the brunt of some drunk's anger. Despite his own anger, Ennis stayed in his seat even as the fists began to swing, telling himself that it wasn't his place to interfere. He didn't even know the man, and maybe he wouldn't _want_ any help, but when he'd seen Joe Casey slug the stranger wearing the dark hat and jacket on the side of the head, something in Ennis had snapped. He was instantly on his feet and at the man's side, drawn into the fight like a fly to honey. Watching him drop to his knees and then crumple on the ground had been too much, and Ennis' rage had gotten the better of him. He'd drawn his fist back into the air and slammed the fist idiot he could get his hands on hard against the jaw. He was able to take them off guard, keep them at bay for a second, but it was just long enough that by the time they started to charge again, the other men in the bar had gotten up and joined the fight. He'd looked down at the man on the wood floor, feeling immediate concern and regret that he hadn't stepped in sooner, could've kept him from getting hurt at all. So he'd helped him up and they'd gone outside.

Ennis stood slowly and poured himself coffee, hoping it would settle his stomach and help the aspirin take effect quickly. He sat back down with his steaming cup and took a sip. He cursed when it scalded his tongue and spit the mouthful back into the mug. Seemed like he always made the coffee too damn hot. He returned to his thoughts, letting the steaming java cool.

After they'd introduced themselves, Jack had gotten a little green around the gills. At first Ennis was afraid he was having a heart attack, but was relieved when he'd said he was just a little woozy from the punch to the temple and had then offered to buy Ennis a couple of drinks. For once the thought of refusing hadn't even crossed his mind, in fact, he was flat out pleased by the offer. He wasn't sure what it was about Jack Twist, but he'd felt unusually comfortable around him from the moment they'd exchanged words outside the seedy Bottom's Up Bar, and for perhaps the first time in his life, wanted to get to know him, to be near him.

So they'd headed to the Cedar Bar, Ennis humming in his truck the whole way. He had a brief scare when Jack had driven past the entrance to the bar, thought maybe the offer for a drink was just a bunch of bull shit, but was immediately reassured when he made a fast u-turn and pulled into the parking lot. They talked and drank all evening and Ennis thought he'd never had so much fun. He was amazed how easily he chatted with Jack, how open he was about even his personal business.

Ennis smirked and took another sip of coffee, blowing on it before he let it touch his burnt tongue. He thought about Jack's laughter, his easy smile, his funny way of telling stories, his deep blue eyes. Ennis shook his head. Yep, he'd definitely consider Jack a friend, even though they'd only known each other for a few hours. He couldn't explain it, but he liked Jack Twist. Genuinely liked the man.

"_Coulda sat there drinkin' with him till the cows came home."_

Ennis finished drinking his coffee and put the cup in the sink. He could've eaten breakfast; still had a few minutes if he wanted to take the time to make it, but his stomach was in no shape or mood to handle anything solid. He picked his hat up off the counter where he'd left it the night before and settled it on his head. Then he walked back into the living room to grab his keys and head out the door. He stopped again, before he left for work, to look at the sleeping man on the couch.

The night before, when they were about to part ways, Ennis had felt a sudden, horrible stab of despair that they had to say goodbye, that they couldn't just go on talking and drinking forever. He knew Jack was probably only in town for a day or so, and the thought that he would never see him again struck him like a blow to the gut. He'd fast made a good friend, maybe the only friend he'd _ever_ made, and they were about to leave each other heading in opposite directions, and that would be that. He'd shaken his hand, not wanting to let go, wanting to hold on tighter and tell him, _"Don't go, please don't go. I thought I didn't need no one else 'cept ma family, thought I didn't need no friends, but I was wrong. Please stay, please don't go."_ but couldn't get the words out, and wouldn't have said them, no matter how drunk he may have been.

He'd stood there helpless as a newborn colt while Jack got into his truck, stood there cursing the clock and cursing his job, and cursing the fact that Jack was leaving, cursing the fact that he couldn't open his fool mouth and ask him to stay. But then, miraculously, Jack's truck didn't start. Ennis had taken a look at his engine, but hadn't seen anything wrong. He'd offered to drive Jack to where he was staying and was secretly pleased at the thought of spending at least a few more minutes with the man. He was also pleased that his truck was out of commission so he would be in town for a little while longer. Just the thought that Jack would still be in Riverton, even if he weren't with Ennis, was a comfort. But, Jack hadn't had a place to stay, just been passing through, he'd said, and he needed somewhere to rest for the night. Ennis' stomach had flip-flopped and he'd immediately thought to invite Jack to stay at his place. But then he'd held back, sensible Ennis returning momentarily, weary at the thought of letting a stranger into his house. Letting someone else stay in _his personal space_ seemed so intimate, such an invasion of privacy, and Ennis was a very private man. But then the idea of never seeing Jack again resurfaced, won the battle, and Ennis had invited anyway, ignoring any hesitations.

And here he was on his couch, sleeping, looking more like a little boy than any 56-year-old man had a right. Ennis felt the minutes ticking by, knew he had to leave the house and get to work, but didn't want to tear his eyes of Jack's peaceful face.

"_He sure does look good sleeping there like that. Bet he's real good with the ladies, certainly is handsome enough…"_

He cut his gaze away and opened the front door as quietly as he could, leaving Jack, and any thoughts he had about his strong features and deep blue eyes, behind him.

* * *

Ennis arrived at The Owl Creek Ranch (named for the northern range it was located on) at 5:30 am on the dot. It was a fairly large cattle operation that was well known for the amount of money they got per head at the stock auctions. Ennis had been working there for nearly five years, the longest he'd stayed in one place. He stayed mainly because it was near Riverton, which is where his daughter had taken permanent residence after briefly living in Casper with her husband.

He pulled his old Chevrolet next to Stoutamire's pick up. Him and Stoutamire usually parked outside the main barn, which held some of the large equipment—tractors, skidsteers, and some hay tools. Stoutamire, the ranch's foreman, was most likely already out in the fields with the steer.

Ennis had been working for Grady Stoutamire for nearly ten years total, though on different ranches and with several years in between. He'd started out with him when Grady had his own ranch just outside Signal back in 82'(around the time Ennis had been seeing a waitress that worked in a local bar), but then the ranch had gone under because of the poor buyers market, and all the horses and cows had been sold, all the workers paid off, and Ennis was left with nothing. He'd had to stay with Junior for a few months just after her and Curt had gotten married. Ennis felt like an intruder all the while. Of course Junior had assured him that he was welcome as long as he needed to stay, but he'd found work on another ranch as quick as possible so he could afford his own place.

He'd worked on several different ranches for a few years, and then he'd gotten word that Stoutamire was at another ranch outside of Casper and had been made foreman. Ennis always liked working for Stoutamire, he'd always been a fair boss and certainly respected the amount of dedication and talent Ennis had for working with stock. So Ennis went to work at the Bucking S. Cattle Ranch. He was there with Stoutamire for a couple months and then ol' Grady had been offered a better deal at The Owl Creek Ranch, same job as foreman, but better pay and healthcare. The owner of Owl Creek, Jeremy Grahams, said that he could bring along a couple of his best workers if he wanted and he'd double their hourly wage. Stoutamire had agreed and brought Ennis and another younger ranch hand, Sam Bufford, along with him.

Ennis like working on Owl Creek okay. He didn't hate it, anyway. There certainly was a lot of work for him to do on a ranch that big, and after a few years he had found himself as a sort of second in command to Stoutamire. Ennis would take over when he couldn't be there, which wasn't often, and got to order the younger ranch hands around, something Ennis was never real comfortable with. He wasn't too good at being the boss; it wasn't that he didn't know how to be a foreman, hell, he knew every ranch he stepped foot on like the back of his hand after a few days, he probably knew The Owl Creek even better that Stoutamire, could've told the other ranch hands what to do in his sleep. But _he'd_ been told what to do his whole life, had always been the hand, the low man, the worker, and giving people orders meant stepping out of his quiet, protective shell and having to raise his voice so that others would listen and follow his commands. He'd gotten used to doing it, but still cringed a little on the days when Stoutamire wasn't there.

Ennis walked around the side of the big equipment barn to where the stables were located. He passed a few of the young men that worked there, and they all tipped their hats and said, 'Hey there, Mister Del Mar,' and Ennis would nod in return. He walked into the stable, saddled up his favorite horse, Jenny Wren, and rode out into the field where Stoutamire was waiting, just as the sun began to rise.

* * *

Around noon, Jack Twist re-entered Ennis' thoughts. He was on his lunch break. Art Granger's wife had surprised the hands by bringing Subway sandwiches, which had pleased Ennis to no end because his hangover had disappeared during the day and he was now quite hungry. He was sitting under a large oak tree, a ways from where the rest of the boys sat by some picnic tables, shoveling the roast beef sandwich into his mouth and not thinking much about anything except how fast he could get the next bite down, when suddenly a funny story Jack had told the night before popped into his head.

He'd been telling him about one year when they had the company Christmas party in a bar with a mechanical bull.

"_Ya see, I used ta ride bulls in the rodeo, won me a few buckles, some award money here n' there. Anyway, I was pleased as shit we were there, was hoping maybe some a' the folks from the office would get drunk enough ta give it a go."_

_Jack took a swig of his beer and a twinkle appeared in his eye._

"_Well, it musta been my lucky day, cuz, who would decide ta up n' ride the bull but my father-in-law, one a the stupidest sons' a bitches in all a' Texas. He always used ta make fun a' me fer bein' a bull rider, prob'ly was jealous, the ol' bastard. So here he goes, drunk outta his mind, climbin' up on this mechanical bull, and every one in the office is hootin' and hollerin' and encouragin' him, cuz they all wanna see him fall on his ass as much I do."_

_The waitress brought them more drinks and then Jack continued. _

"_He was on that thing fer maybe four seconds, course it was goin' at a slower speed than a bull with three legs. And then he gets up, chest all puffed out and calls over ta me, 'See there, Rodeo,' he says, 'Bull ridin' ain't that hard.' And then when he leans over ta pick up his hat that had fallen off, his pants split right down the center, exposin' his ass ta everyone that wanted ta see, not that anyone would wanna see that."_

Jack had laughed and laughed when he'd finished telling Ennis the story, and Ennis had chuckled right along with him, more tickled at the state Jack had gotten into than the story itself, he'd figured it was one of those things that was funnier if you'd been there. Ennis smiled at his memory of that man laughing so hard he'd been squinting his eyes closed and grabbing at his stomach. Ennis thought he'd never seen a finer sight, thought he could never grow tired of seeing Jack Twist laugh till he was red in the face.

He finished his sandwich and leaned back against the tree, pulling his hat over his face for a few minutes of peace and quiet before going back to work. He thought again on how Jack had said he was just passing through, thought on what it would be like to watch him leave and know he was never coming back. Something tightened in Ennis' chest at the thought, but he knew it was inevitable. He hoped Jack would be in town for at least a couple more days.

Ennis had never had company stay in his house for more than a few hours, and found he couldn't think of anyone he'd rather have as a guest than Jack. He sighed and thought more on Jack's friendly smile, his kind eyes, and the way he had of relaxing Ennis out of his usual silence. Other's would try to force Ennis to talk, put him on the spot when he didn't want to be, but the night before Jack had done most of the talking, never making Ennis feel like he had to add more than a 'yep' or a 'sure do', which had put him at ease enough to share stories himself.

He began to put together a little fantasy (something Ennis never did because he thought dreams were foolish and only for those with too much time on their hands) where he and Jack were ranch neighbors. Ennis would own a little horse ranch, for horses were the animals he truly loved, and Jack would own a little farm just a ways from Ennis' own. They would get together at nights and drink and talk and play checkers maybe, and Junior would come and visit with her newly adopted child, and Jack's granddaughter would visit too, and learn to ride horses Ennis kept on his ranch. He could see them on a porch together, two old men, sitting in comfortable silence and every now and then a sharing a memory or two. It would be some sweet life.

Ennis was stirred by the sound of Stoutamire telling all the ranch hands to get back to work, that lunch was over. He stood slowly, hands on his knees, and brushed off his hat, and then tossed his sandwich rapper in the open steel barrel where they collected their trash. He headed back to the stables to mount Jenny Wren and get on with his daily duties. Now that he was up and moving, he scolded himself for being so foolish, daydreaming about something that would never happen.

_"Yer an ol' fool, Del Mar. You don't even know Jack Twist, and all ready yer makin' him out ta be yer best friend. Yer jest lonely. Maybe ya should take some a' Junior's advice and go out with the guys from work more, try and make some friends that ya can keep."_

But Ennis didn't want to make friends with other guys from work. He wanted Jack Twist. Felt like they'd known each other forever, felt like he should've had miles and miles of memories with him, felt that Jack Twist was maybe the only person that had ever understood him and maybe ever would.

_"Don't be stupid. Last night ya were drunk, yer mind wasn't what it normally is, probably woulda thought that the pope himself was the only one that could understand ya, had he been the one ya were drinkin' with."_

Ennis put his foot in the stirrup and pulled himself up onto Jenny Wren, leading her out to the section of the northern fence that was being repaired. The breeze against his face and the feel of the horse trotting allowed him to clear his head and forget about his dreamt life with the man he'd only met the night before. Some things would just never work out. Still, despite his reasoning, he couldn't ignore the excitement that was growing stronger and stronger at the thought of coming home from work to Jack Twist.


	8. Chapter 8

Jack was pinned flat against the wall in the hallway that led to the bedroom, strong arms, a man's arms, held him roughly on either side. He was breathing heavy, nearly gasping, and sweat was darkening the back of his denim shirt, right between the shoulders. He was so hot, had to get his shirt off, his pants off, had to give his hard dick room to breath, had to feel his naked skin pressed up against the man that was frantically kissing and sucking up the length of his neck and jaw.

He let a small moan escape his lips when the man thrust his hips forward, digging into Jack's groin and simultaneously kissing him forcefully, lips parted, hot breath exhaling, moaning. Jack sucked hard on the tongue that was working its way around, trying to fuck his mouth, moving slowly in and out. Jack thought he had never been so hard in his life, had never had the need to be fucked fast and rough. He thought he might come right there if they kept it up at the rate they were going.

Jack managed to tear his mouth away, and push the object of his desire from him just enough that he could free his hands and start to unbutton the man's shirt as quickly as possible—wanted to rip it open really, but didn't want to ruin it. He reached down to start on the belt when his hand was grabbed away and roughly pinned above his head. Ennis Del Mar brought his face close enough to Jacks that they could have kissed, but kept a little distance between their mouths. Torture.

He wanted Ennis so badly, he was on fire; he could already feel his dick dripping with pre-cum. He couldn't take much more.

"Ennis," his voice was barely above a choked whisper, all he could manage at the moment. "I need ya in me. I want ya in me so bad."

Ennis, brown eyes, now almost black with lust, leaned forward and kissed Jack again on the lips, but gently this time. Jack opened his mouth for more, wanting to feel his tongue moving inside again, but Ennis pulled away, and instead licked Jack's bottom lip, gave it a passionate nip before pressing full against him and growling in his ear.

"Want somethin' else first."

Ennis released Jack's arm from its locked position above his head and began to undo Jack's belt buckle. Ennis lowered to his knees in front of him, and then pulled Jack's pants down just enough for easy access. Jack thought he would die if he didn't feel Ennis' touch on him soon. Any thoughts of death were immediately tossed from his mind, because then Ennis wrapped his hand around Jack's erect cock. He felt his balls draw up, and nearly came right there, just with the feel of his strong hand. Ennis licked the head of Jack's dick, swirled his tongue around his hole lightly and then his lips were on him.

Jack thought he was going to black out. His vision blurred slightly and when it began to clear, he saw specks of light dancing in front of his eyes. He gave out a little yell when Ennis took him all the way into his mouth, felt his length go down that man's throat. He was massaging Jack's balls with one hand, and he placed his other free hand, palm open, lightly onto Jack's lower abdomen, rubbing his thumb gently across his belly hair. Jack felt his legs weaken, and he stomped his foot slightly, trying to regain his senses and his strength.

"Goddamn! Fuck!"

He didn't have the self control to look down at the man who's lips were wrapped tightly around his cock, better than any woman he'd ever had, better because even though he was on his knees in front of him, he was completely in control of the situation, distinctly male with the rough way he grabbed at him and the feel of stubble that once every so often touched Jack's skin. He knew though, that if he looked down and saw himself in Ennis' mouth, that it would be over and he'd probably come so hard, he'd die.

He wasn't given the satisfaction though, because suddenly Ennis was on his feet again, pressing himself entirely against Jack, grabbing his face with both of his hands and taking him with his mouth and tongue.

Ennis pulled back and let out a small moan when Jack began to rub Ennis' equally hard dick over his jeans.

"Can't wait any longer, Jack. I'm about to come, myself."

Jack saw his opportunity to take control. He pulled his pants up a little with one hand, then grabbed Ennis rough by his open collar and dragged him backwards down the hall. He kicked the bedroom door open gently with his foot, and hauled Ennis in, collapsing on the bed and pulling Ennis down on top of him. He was ready for what ever came next, no matter what he may have told himself before, thought maybe he'd always been ready.

Ennis made a sloppy trail down Jack's neck with his lips and began to unbutton his shirt, neglected before in lieu of his pants. Jack sighed when he felt the cool air touch his chest, sighed as he ran his hands through Ennis' soft hair, laced with gray, but still predominantly golden. Ennis sat back on his knees and took off his own shirt, then started unbuckling his pants. Jack followed his lead and wiggled out of his shirt, then kicked his jeans off down around his ankles. They were both completely naked now and Jack could see Ennis' own penis, fairly large and uncircumcised, pointing up and red with the blood that had rushed to the area.

Ennis let him look, then eventually caught Jack's eyes with his own and, in a heartbeat, was back on top of him, chest pressed against Jack's chest, mouth pressed against Jack's mouth. He reached down and grabbed Jack's dick, still tingling from the sensation of Ennis' lips and mouth, and pumped his hand up and down a couple times, moving his tongue in and out with the rhythm. Jack moaned and squirmed, wanting more, but was helpless, pinned beneath him.

Swiftly Ennis lifted and flipped him over onto his knees. Jack was panting as he felt Ennis position himself behind him, knew what was coming next, and then the phone was ringing. He tried to ignore it and focus on what was going to happen, but nothing did.

_"What the fuck?"_

The phone was ringing louder now, not from far down the hallway, but coming from just a few feet away in the kitchen. Jack's eyes flew open, and abruptly realized he was starring at the gray carpet, hanging half off the couch, about to fall to the floor. He realized this too late, though, and he hit the ground hard, hurting his ribs and mostly hurting his dick, which had been more than a little hard. He winced, gave a little yell, and then rolled over onto his back, taking in his surroundings. He was laying in a small living room, the morning sun streaming in through the half open blinds.

As the phone continued, Jack discovered his head was pounding in time with the rings. The world settled around him, and he remembered where he was, and more importantly, _who_ happened to _own_ where he was. The dream returned with a vengeance, making Jack blush slightly and then there was a click and an answering machine came on.

"This is Ennis Del Mar. I'm not home. Leave a message after the beep."

There was a long beep and the sound of a woman's voice followed.

"Hey Daddy, it's me. I just wanted to remind you 'bout this Tuesday. It's Curt's birthday, and remember, you promised you'd come out with us for dinner. I know you said ya didn't feel it was yer place, but we're all family and a family should be together fer celebrations." There was a pause. "Anyway. Also wanted to tell you that I'm thinking 'bout gettin' a new job, quit waitressin' at Q.T.'s. So, since I won't be workin' tomorrow night like usual, thought I might drop by and make ya some dinner. Might be nice, since we ain't had time lately. Call me back when ya get a chance."

There was a click and then silence. Jack lay dumbfounded on Ennis' living room floor.

* * *

It had taken him a little while to find the bathroom, remembered Ennis pointing it out the night before, but Jack had been so overwhelmed and drunk, that he couldn't remember where he'd said it was. He finally found it. It was down the hall that connected to the kitchen and across from Ennis' closed bedroom door. Jack flushed as he walked down the hall, the dream he'd had still thick, tightening its grip on him right along with the head ache that was left over from too much drink.

He shuffled into the bathroom, still fuzzy from the eight or nine beers, but close to regaining his senses because of the pitiless knock into consciousness from falling off the couch. Jack noticed Ennis' bathroom was remarkably uncluttered, then remembered that the only reason his own bathroom was cluttered was because of Lureen. There was makeup and bath soap and hair products and jewelry all over their bathroom counter. He could barely find his own toothbrush sometimes, and would have lost it in the jungle of beauty products if it hadn't been for the little ceramic holder Lureen had bought. But this little room was different. It looked used, certainly, but…well it was all man. There was a plain blue vinyl shower curtain that hung from the shower rod, and a gray bathroom mat placed between the shower and the cabinets and sink. On the sink counter there was a toothbrush and a razor blade, and that was it. Jack smiled at the simplicity.

_"Think I could get accustomed ta livin' like this."_

He took a piss and then washed his hands and splashed some water on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror; saw his blue eyes, and the dark circles under them, dark from exhaustion and from the hangover that he had luckily mostly slept through. He saw hints of the dream that lingered behind his eyes, saw what he wanted to do with the man that owned the house he had woken up in, saw the desire and maybe something else, something deeper.

_"I am not a queer. I'll be damned if I ever start prancin' round wearing glitter n' goin' ta discos."_

But is that really what all queers did? Jack thought probably not. And what qualified as being queer? Did it include thoughts, or was it only official if there were actions involved?

_"Thoughts lead to actions."_

And Jack was dead sure, that given the opportunity, he would take advantage of any situation that may lead to sex with Ennis Del Mar, _damn _sure. He didn't feel like going out to some bar and picking up a random guy to have sex with, though, he just wanted Ennis.

_"But last night you thought Ennis was lookin' good and you didn't know it was him!"_

Jack gave up and left the bathroom. There were too many questions that he didn't feel like addressing at the moment. He wandered into the kitchen and saw, on a clock placed on top of a microwave, that it was a quarter past nine. He felt like going back to sleep, but knew he had things to do and that he couldn't just lay around on Ennis' couch all day.

_"He only offered fer you ta stay fer the night because ya didn't have no where else ta go. He wasn't inviting ya ta make yourself at home; he was just offering a roof above yer head. 'Sides, he prob'bly wouldn't want ya hangin' 'round messin' with his stuff, no how."_

Jack _did_ want some coffee though. He remembered Ennis saying he could fix himself something to eat in the morning, but he didn't really feel like taking advantage of that. The couch for the night was enough.

He walked out of the kitchen and back into the living room, considered flicking on the T.V., and then told himself to get a move on. He sat down on the couch and lifted his duffel bag onto his lap, unzipped it so he could search for some fresh clothes. He shoved aside several different shirts and then finally settled on a denim one (tried telling himself he hadn't chosen it because he'd been wearing it in his dream) and some new socks. He could wear his jeans for another day.

He was about to set the duffel back on the floor, when he caught sight of the book. He'd forgotten he'd packed it, but there it was, sitting at the bottom of his bag, just as innocent as snow, starring up at him.

_Close Range: Wyoming Stories_

Jack pulled it out of the bag and turned it over in his hands several times. He ran his finger down the spine and flipped it open. It automatically turned to the first page of Brokeback Mountain, (that was where he usual opened it) the spine had stretched and formed a crease. It spooked him a little reading that first page, spooked him reading about Ennis Del Mar waking before five because he was in Ennis Del Mar's house, and that morning he _had_ woken before five. It was too weird. No, weird wasn't a good enough word. It was…_unbelievable_. Completely unbelievable. To think, only a little over two weeks before, he had no idea that this book existed, that Ennis Del Mar existed, and most importantly, he'd never had fantasies involving another man.

_"Hardly had any fantasies at all."_

Truth was, until he'd found Brokeback Mountain, Jack had been feeling old and dried up. He'd been feeling a little worthless, maybe even a little depressed. The saddest part of it was, that Jack had actually been going down hill since he'd married Lureen and become a Newsome Farm Equipment employee. He'd felt it gradually, hadn't noticed it at first, only realized he was sinking lower and lower into the worthless pile a' shit category after it was too late. But then he'd read the story, and everything had started to change. He felt more alive than he ever had, probably the closest he'd come to this kind of thrill was when he used to ride the bulls, but that was short lived and then it was back in the muck for Jack Twist. But now he was riding a constant high (not always a good one), full of questions, and desperate to solve this bizarre mystery. And that wasn't all. There was something else that was different now too, but he hadn't felt it until the night before, when he'd been down on the pavement, and Ennis had sat down next to him, brown eyes full of concern. He'd been thinking on it while he was falling to sleep, but hadn't been able to put his finger on what it was and still felt unsure.

It had just been so long since someone had looked him straight in the eye and shown serious concern for his well being. Lureen hardly ever gave him _any_ looks these days accept maybe annoyance. Hell, he wasn't sure if anyone had _ever_ shown him much concern. Maybe when he was real young and his ma was always running after him because he was always causing some sort of trouble, always falling out of a tree, or off a fence, or off a roof (which he had done once on a dare). Then, he thought he remembered her looking his way with a concerned eye, but it had always been under a mask of anger. Once he'd become a teenager, his mother had tended to leave him alone. It seemed she got quieter the older he got, like since he was old enough to take care of himself when he got hurt, she didn't need to make a fuss over him. Seemed like Jack's dad did most of the raising when he'd gotten older, though, no one could rightly call it "raising". More like trying to beat him into submission. His dad had saved the harsh beatings till he was old enough to handle them; only time he let it get out of hand when Jack was young was the time he'd missed the toilet while peeing, the time that the story mentioned. So it seemed like forever since anyone had really noticed him, really paid him any mind, shown any concern. And seeing it come from the most unlikely of places, from the eyes of this man, the man he'd come to find, that had been the deal breaker.

Jack smiled to himself when he thought on Ennis Del Mar. He thought on his strong jaw, his tough closed manner, the way he lowered his hat so his eyes couldn't be seen and the way he curved his shoulders inward. He appeared so tough on the outside, certainly seemed like he could kick anyone's ass that he so pleased, but then there was another side he'd shown. Jack had seen how he came to his side and helped him fight off the assholes in the bar, how he'd let his eyes fall on him full of concern, and then later how he smiled at the things Jack said, and on a couple of occasions how he laughed.

Jack felt his stomach flip flop at the thought of Ennis' laughter. It was a slow sort of low chuckle, his shoulders would move up and down, and his mouth would stay closed, but there would be a lopsided grin plastered across his face and a twinkle appeared in his eyes. Jack thought he'd never seen anything finer, thought he could paw at the moon, decided he would be happy the rest of his life if he could make Ennis laugh like that anytime he wanted.

He sighed and finally put the book back in his duffel bag. He wasn't sure how he was going to tell Ennis about it. Wasn't so sure he _wanted_ to. Jack didn't figure Ennis would be too pleased at the idea, didn't seem like the type that would accept something like that with open arms, and say, "Well that's just swell, Jack, wanna fuck?" Jack laughed. Of course that wasn't what he'd say, didn't seem like something _anyone_ would say given the circumstances. So he decided maybe he shouldn't bring it up at all.

"_Well…maybe I will, if the right opportunity presents itself."_

Right. Jack figured that might be when pigs decided to pack their bags and get themselves a few plane tickets to the Bahamas. Jack chuckled again and got up to change his clothes and go about his business.

* * *

Jack was sitting in the waiting room of Bailey Tire & Auto Service on South Federal Blvd. in downtown Riverton. He discovered there was also a Big O Tires just a little ways up the Boulevard, but he didn't want to take his chances there, since the last Big O Tires he'd been to had told him there was nothing wrong with his truck. Not that he hadn't had a nice time waiting while he'd had it checked out, but Karl had been dead wrong about the light simply having bulb issues.

The waiting area he sat in now was slightly nicer than the one in Cheyenne. It was bigger, first off, and there were windows all around so you could even see into the garage and watch what was being done to your car. There was also a T.V., but all it was showing was the latest episode of the Jerry Springer Show, which Jack had no interest in. He didn't give a damn who was sleeping with who, or how they were doing it. The only thing he missed were the two boys he'd met in Cheyenne, they'd been decent company and had made the time pass quicker.

Jack looked at his watch. It was almost one o'clock. He whistled at how much time had passed, he'd been waiting for nearly two hours now. He settled back in his chair a little and figured he had a bit more to wait. There'd been a few other trucks ahead of him, and they hadn't been working on his F-150 for very long.

After he'd gotten dressed, he'd found a yellow pages and looked up the number of some auto shops around town. He discovered that Bailey Tire & Auto also had a towing service and wasn't located too far from the bar where his truck had given out. He'd called them (wondering as he dialed, why Ennis' phone had been disconnected when he'd tried calling before), and told them where his truck was after he'd gotten through. They said someone would be there in about an hour. Jack figured that would be okay, and said he'd meet the tow truck in the parking lot.

He'd had to walk there, and felt like an asshole the whole way. He found out the nearest taxi agency was located in Thermopolis, Wyoming, which was at least a hundred miles out of the way. Only in Wyoming. So he'd had to walk, had to ask a couple people along the way which direction the Cedar Bar was in, and finally made it there. The tow truck hadn't arrived yet, so he slipped inside a little diner across the street and ordered a cup of coffee. He'd wanted to order something for breakfast, but was afraid he wouldn't have time to eat it. As it was, the tow truck was late, but Jack figured he could eat after his truck was ready. That had been two hours before.

It was then that an elderly gentleman wearing a nametag with 'Reggie' written on it opened the glass waiting room door and approached Jack.

"You Twist, with the fancy F-150?"

Jack stood up and extended his hand. He hadn't met this man yet.

"Yep, that's me. Nice ta meet ya, sir."

The old man coughed and waved away Jack's comment, ignoring his hand.

"Don't get all respectful on me, now. My name's Reggie and that's what everyone calls me. Now," he turned and headed back out the door, then waited for Jack to follow. And Jack did.

He let the old man lead him to where his truck was still raised up on the lift and then Reggie continued.

"There's some good news and some bad news involvin' yer truck."

It was noisy in the garage from another car that was having its tires rotated, and Jack felt like he had to yell to be heard.

"What's the news?"

"What?" The old man cupped his hand to his ear.

Jack rolled his eyes. "I said, WHAT'S THE NEWS?"

Reggie chewed on his thoughts for a minute and then looked Jack in the eye.

"Well, the good news is that I know what's wrong with yer truck."

Jack nodded for him to continue.

"Ya see, these new trucks, they're gettin' too high tech fer their own good. Most folks ain't caught up with all the upgrades. Often times the truck's computer system detects trouble and if the problem's subtle enough or hasn't progressed enough, most folks won't notice, even some with the trained eye. Luckily, though, I noticed what's wrong. Took a little while, but not much gets past me."

The old man spit on the ground by his feet before he continued talking.

"Yer electric cooling fan is shot, it's malfunctioning, somehow got warped."

Jack laughed incredulously. "But my truck is brand new. Only six months old!"

Reggie shook his head. "May be, but that don't change what's wrong with it. Sometimes even new trucks can have faulty parts, 'specially some a' these new Ford F-150s. I've been gettin' a lot in the garage recently with similar problems, seems like there was a whole lot of 'em made with faulty cooling fans."

"But wouldn't the distributor or the supplies factory notice? Wouldn't they do tests?"

"Don't know. Reckon they didn't, since ya got this here trouble. Probably wasn't obvious enough at the time to give it a second thought. You ready for the bad news?"

Jack threw his hands up in the air. "We haven't gotten ta that yet?"

Reggie laughed. "Nope. The cooling fan needs ta be replaced, the wiring needs ta be redone, and the temp. sensor needs replacin' too, just ta be on the safe side. It's pretty messy, but shouldn't be too bad to fix once we get the parts."

"What?" Jack wasn't sure he'd heard the old man right. _Once they get the parts?_

"Remember when I said that these new models were too high tech fer their own good? Most folks haven't caught up yet? Well, I'm one a' the folks that ain't caught up. We don't got the part you need in stock. We got some cooling fans from the old Ford model, but this new one's been updated fer the new millinium, I reckon, and the old one won't fit yer engine. S'against the rules to interchange parts from different models anyway, more often than not it don't work. Long story short, I won't know exactly how much it'll cost 'till I order the parts, but it should be around $800-$1200. I'll order the part fer ya today soon's I get a free moment, should get here in a couple a' days."

"A couple a' days?"

"Yeah. Sorry bout that."

Jack froze. His heart jumped up in his throat and his blood went cold. He felt like jumping for joy and disappearing all at the same time.

_"A couple a' days. That means a couple more days with Ennis…a couple more days wanting something that's so close, but I still can't have. That is if Ennis offers ta let me stay…"_

He hadn't thought about that. Maybe Ennis wouldn't want him there any longer. He only offered for him to stay the night, anyway, and it was just because it was so late and he'd had nowhere else to go. For all Jack knew, Ennis expected him to be gone by the time he got home from work. Probably wouldn't be too keen on the idea of Jack having to stay for a few more days, probably wouldn't want…

"Twist? Boy, are you listening ta me?"

Jack snapped out of his reverie and looked back at the old man.

"Pardon?"

"I said, you can get a ride from one a the boys in the garage, they can take ya back ta yer house, and then I'll give ya a call when the parts come in, when yer truck is ready. Just fill this out."

The old man handed Jack a clipboard with spaces for personal information, address, phone number, etc.

"Um…Reggie, I, uh…I'm from outta town, n' I'm just stayin' with a friend right now, and I might not be stayin' there fer much longer…"

The old man gave him a thoughtful expression.

"Yer lady kickin' ya out, then?"

Jack stared at him blankly. "My…what?"

"Yer lady. Sounds like trouble in paradise."

"No! I'm…I mean, my friend's a guy, I just…don't know how much longer I'll be there."

Reggie shrugged. "Well, just fill in his phone number and put yer name down and we'll give ya a call when yer truck's ready."

Jack wrote down his name and Ennis' number. Area code (307) 857-4286. Jack didn't think he'd ever forget that number.

He handed the clipboard back to the old man and told him he didn't need a ride. He'd walked there and he could walk back, wasn't too much trouble. The walking probably did him good anyway. And besides, he wanted to stop in the diner that was across the street, get himself some lunch. He was hungry enough to eat an entire horse, raw if need be.

He waved to Reggie, gave his truck one last look, then headed out into the hot sun now directly overhead in a cloudless sky.

* * *

Ennis pulled his Chevrolet into his drive around 5:30. He was dead tired, as he usually was when he got home from a long day working at Owl Creek, but this evening there was something else hiding below his exhaustion. Something he hadn't felt in a long time: excitement. He was eager as hell to get inside the house and see Jack Twist. He'd been thinking on him all day long it seemed, and now he felt he had to have him in his sights, had to reassure himself that he wasn't just a figment of his imagination, something created out of a lonely mind.

He hopped out of his truck after parking in the carport and jogged up the walk to his front door. He felt he couldn't get his key out of his pocket and in the keyhole fast enough. He stopped when he finally unlocked it to get himself in check.

_"Damn, take a look at yerself! What's gotten inta you? You'd think ya just won the lottery and the prize was waitin' fer ya right behind the door. Get a hold a' yerself. He's just an ordinary man, nothing special, yer just workin' yerself up over nothin'."_

But for some reason he couldn't convince himself that Jack _wasn't_ something special. Ennis had certainly never known anyone like him, never known anyone that made him feel like he did. And what exactly was it that he was feeling? Ennis didn't linger too long on the thought, and then opened the door, barely opening it completely before stepping into the living room.

Jack was nowhere to be seen. Ennis didn't even see his bag. He immediately began to panic. Had he left? Where did he go? Did he get his truck fixed and not even say goodbye? Ennis felt his chest start to tighten and his breathing became slightly labored. He was suddenly lost. This was _not_ what he'd expected.

_"How could he jest leave without sayin' goodbye? Without even a fuckin' 'thankya fer lettin' me stay'? How…"_

He'd lost his new friend. He'd found him and lost him just like that. Leave it to fate, to dangle something like that in front of his nose, some thing he'd never even thought possible, and then snatch it away from him without so much as a 'fuck you'. Ennis felt like punching something, and would have too if there hadn't been a crash from the kitchen and then a loud, "Shit!"

His fears were suddenly forgotten, his need to defend his house taking over all other emotions. It sounded like someone had broken into his house and he was damned if he was going to let the stupid sonofabitch get away with it.

Ennis looked around the room for something he could use as a weapon, settled on a poker from the fireplace that was across one side of the living room, and crept into the kitchen with it held firmly over his head. He stopped when he got to the edge of the kitchen, back against the wall where he knew he couldn't be seen. He took a deep breath and then charged into the kitchen, yelling in as menacing a voice he could manage.

"What the fuck do ya think yer doin'?"

The intruder turned and dropped the beer bottle he'd been holding. It shattered when it hit the ground. He held his hands up in the air.

"Holy shit!"

The two men starred at each other for a few seconds. Realization struck Ennis and he let the poker hit the ground.

"Jack?"

He looked around the kitchen, saw that Jack had pulled out a couple of beers, one that was now shattered on the ground, the other still on the counter, and had ordered a pizza. He still had his hands in the air.

Ennis started chuckling. Jack started chuckling. Soon, both men were laughing so hard tears were rolling down their cheeks. Ennis had to grab at his side and lean against the wall. Jack was bent over with his hands on his knees, his face red. Ennis had never laughed so hard in his life.

"Goddamn! Ennis, you scared the shit outta me. Thought I was gonna die jest then. Woo-wee!"

Ennis was still laughing, but finally had control over himself. He stood up and walked to where Jack was standing.

"I thought you was an intruder. Thought you'd left already. Was damn disappointed let me tell ya."

Jack's own laughter trailed off then and he gave Ennis a serious look.

"You was disappointed?"

Ennis, suddenly self-conscious that he'd said that out loud, looked down at his feet.

"Well, ya know. Didn't get a chance ta thank ya fer all them beers last night."

"Friend, lettin' me stay fer the night was thank ya, enough."

The two men were quiet fer a moment longer and then Ennis looked back up and walked past Jack to where the pizza was sitting on the counter.

"See ya ordered some pizza. Pepperoni. Good, my favorite."

"I figured you'd be gettin' home soon, so I went ahead n' ordered one from the Pizza Hut. Pulled you out a beer, but I, uh…"

Jack looked down at the bottle that had shattered at his feet, and then Ennis noticed there was also a cracked plate a little distance from the beer.

"I seem to've made a mess a' yer kitchen. I was trying ta balance the pizza and the beers and the plates, so I could carry them to the table, and I dropped one. Set 'em down so's I could clean up the mess, but then, well, you came chargin' in like a bull with a hornet up its ass, and I dropped the beer too."

"A bull with a hornet up its ass?"

"That's a frightenin' sight, let me tell you."

There was a moment of silence and then they both started laughing again. The fit didn't last as long this time, and it wasn't nearly as hysterical, but it was still harder than Ennis had laughed before today.

He picked up the pizza and Jack got the one beer and plate. Jack sat down and then Ennis got another plate out of the cabinet and grabbed himself another beer from the fridge. There was comfortable silence as Jack opened the pizza box and grabbed himself a slice and Ennis twisted the cap off his beer bottle and took a deep swig.

"That's one a' the two things I need right now."

Jack took a bite. "What's the other?"

"Well, a little friendly conversation certainly wouldn't kill me."

The two men sat and talked for a while, laughing and relaxing. Eventually they finished their beers and Ennis grabbed two more out of the fridge, set one down in front of Jack. He sat back in his seat and looked across the table at the man wearing a denim shirt, leaning back in his chair, legs crossed at the ankle, one arm propped up on the table. Ennis smiled, suddenly wished he could reach over and place his hand on top of Jack's, feel his skin, have some sort of contact. Any sort of contact with Jack would solidify his presence, put Ennis at ease. Had he ever felt like this about anyone? Ennis couldn't remember. It was an odd feeling, and even odder that he'd developed it after knowing Jack less than a day. But still…

"How was yer day out workin' in the fields?"

Ennis was shaken from his thoughts. "Ya make it sound like some kinda slave labor."

Jack smiled. "Well, after years of not doin' it, that's what it seems like ta me."

Ennis chuckled and settled back in his chair. "Wasn't too bad. Wasn't too good. The usual. S'better than sittin' at a desk, I'll tell you that."

"I hear ya there. I do have ta admit that I miss bein' out side, miss bein' active. I'm tired of the sales business, been tired of it since I started."

Jack took another sip of his beer and sat starring at the floor in thought. Ennis watched him for a minute then began to fiddle with the beer cap that was lying on the table. He cleared his throat.

"So, did ya get yer truck fixed? Do ya know what's wrong with it?"

Jack looked at him and his eyes got a little darker. He sat up in his chair and turned fully towards Ennis.

"Well, yeah. I found out what was wrong with it. Had it towed and walked out ta the auto shop."

"Which one?"

"The, uh, Bailey Tire & Auto service. Anyway, seems like the cooling fan is shot. The man that works there doesn't have the part in stock though, so he's goin' ta order it fer me. Only problem is it prob'bly won't be in fer another couple days."

Ennis considered all Jack said silently with his eyes cast to the ground. What he wanted to do was jump out of his seat and invite him to stay as long as he needed, but that wasn't something Ennis would _ever_ do, so he just stayed where he was with his eyes locked on the floor. When he didn't say anything, Jack continued.

"So, looks like I'll need ta get a hotel room, or somethin'. Should probably get around ta doin' that soon, before it gets too late."

They were both silent. Finally Ennis looked over to Jack.

"You can stay with me as long as ya need. I don't mind."

Jack stared back at Ennis. Finally he broke eye contact, finished off his beer and then set the bottle on the table. He leaned forward in his chair, folded his hands, looking ready to do business.

"Ennis, as much as I'd like ta take you up on yer offer, I wouldn't wanna be an inconvenience. So ya don't have ta offer if'n ya don't want to. I don't mind findin' a motel."

Ennis shook his head and mirrored Jacks position. He looked him straight in the eye.

"Wouldn't invite ya ta stay if'n I didn't want ya to."

Jack was thoughtful for another minute. Ennis found himself hoping Jack would say 'yes', didn't want to miss the opportunity to spend a few more days with him.

"You'd make a pretty good sales man, you know that?"

"You must not know me very well, then."

They looked at each other for a moment and then both laughed.

"Well, all right, I'll stay. Can't thank ya enough fer this."

"Don't worry 'bout it. Jest hope this won't mess up yer plans er anythin'. Didn't ya say you was jest passin' through?"

"Yeah, uh, jest passin' through."

"What brings ya here, anyway?"

The color drained from Jack's face. He looked a little like he had the night before after Ennis had introduced himself, a little like he'd just seen a two-headed cow doing a juggling act. Jack reached for his beer, realized it was empty, then rubbed at his face with his left hand.

"I was…was headin' up ta my folks place, up near Lightenin' Flat. Was goin' ta check out the ol' farm n' ranch, see what's what. Took a rest from drivin'. Then, well, I ended up here."

Ennis nodded, then stood and stretched. He picked up the pizza box and tossed it into the trashcan. Next he grabbed Jack's two bottles of beer and put them in the sink, then wet a rag that was hanging on the stove handle and started wiping up beer from the floor. Jack came over to where he was, kneeled across from him, and started collecting the broken pieces of glass onto the broken plate. At one point their hands touched and Ennis felt a jolt of electricity go through his body and land at his groin.

_"What the fuck?"_

"Sorry." Jack said.

"No problem." Ennis felt like he'd just been kicked by an angry mare. He wasn't sure what had just happened. It certainly wasn't unpleasant, though.

Jack stood and threw the broken glass in the trash.

"Oh, hey, fergot ta mention. Yer daughter called earlier. Left you a message. Said she wanted ta come n' cook dinner fer ya tomorrow, I think."

"Junior?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Ennis tossed the beer soaked rag into the sink and walked over to the answering machine, pressed play. Sure enough, Junior wanted to come over and cook Sunday dinner. It had once been a tradition for them. Junior would come over every Sunday evening and cook a good home cooked meal for Ennis, since he usually didn't eat too well. It wasn't that he didn't have enough money, he just wasn't that great of a cook and he didn't have the patience to try and learn how to make himself a good meal.

He thought about what Junior had said in her message. Was glad she was getting a new job, Q.T.'s had never paid her that well anyway, and he was even gladder at the thought of being able to spend Sunday nights with his daughter again. He didn't think it was right, her having to work late on Sundays. And since she was coming over tomorrow…

"Hey, Jack, tomorrow you can meet my daughter Junior."

Jack smiled. "I'd love that Ennis. She sounds like a very nice woman from what ya told me 'bout her. So longs I wouldn't be getting' in the way. I'm sure she wants ta spend time with her daddy."

"Yeah well, she'll jest be pleased that I've made a friend, she keeps tellin' me I oughta go out more n' be social."

"So are we friends then, Ennis Del Mar?"

Ennis leaned against the counter and looked straight at Jack, who was standing near the trashcan with a devilish grin on his face.

"I would like ta think so."

Jack's smile widened, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Well good. So would I."


	9. Chapter 9

Jack woke the next morning to the smell of cooking bacon. He lifted his head, and groggily looked around, once again thrown by his unfamiliar surroundings. He wasn't suffering from a hangover _this_ morning, however, since the night before he and Ennis had shared only a couple beers.

They'd stayed up mainly talking and joking around this time, the hours ticking past like minutes, the moon racing across the night sky. Jack told some more funny stories from his days in the rodeo and from his time working with L.D. Newsome. Ennis was in a light enough mood to share a couple funny stories with Jack—mostly tales of things his kids had done when they were little. That spurred Jack to tell Ennis about the time his son Bobby had gotten his head stuck in a fence and Lureen had called the Fire department.

The night had gone on in that fashion; many laughs were shared. It had been around three o'clock in the morning when they'd finally parted ways to go to sleep, Ennis hesitantly retiring to his bedroom, Jack going back to lay on the couch.

A smile cracked Jack's sleepy face, brought on by memories of the previous evening. He sat up tall on the couch and stretched, then let out a big yawn and stood to make his way into the kitchen. Ennis was already dressed and rushing around, trying to control the cooking eggs, bacon, and toast, while setting the table. Jack shuffled in, amazed by the juggling act he was performing. He looked over at the clock: 8:30.

"Good lord, boy! What time did you get up?"

Ennis turned when he realized he was no longer alone, gave Jack a slow smile.

"'Bout an hour ago. Ya gotta remember, I'm used ta ranch hours. 7:30 is sleepin' in fer me."

Jack laughed then yawned again. "Not when ya went ta bed at 3 in the mornin'."

Ennis shrugged. "I've never been much of a sleeper."

Jack leaned on the counter, smirking as Ennis continued his attempts at preparing breakfast.

"So what's cookin', cowboy?"

Ennis gave Jack a look over his shoulder. "Cowboy?"

"That's what ya are, ain't it?"

"Spose so. Can you hand me those plates?" Ennis waited a second then added. "Prefer'bly without droppin' 'em?"

Jack gave Ennis the finger than took a plate in both hands, held them out to Ennis, who piled two eggs over easy and three pieces of bacon on each. Jack placed them on the table, sitting down on the wooden chair to the left.

"What d'ya want ta drink?"

"What ya got?"

Ennis opened the fridge. "Not much. There's some milk, but I wouldn't recommend it, probably sour by now. Um, there's some orange juice. That's not too old."

"I'll have that."

Ennis brought over a carton of orange juice and set in down in front of Jack. The toast popped up, Ennis buttered it, then arranged the slices on a plate and also brought that to the table. He sat down across from Jack. They both dug in.

Jack looked up at Ennis between bites. He kept his eyes on his food, too busy with what was in front of him. Jack smiled.

_"He sure is sweet. Goin' ta all this trouble ta make breakfast."_

Jack sipped some juice, swallowed, and then leaned back in his chair.

"I thought you said, ya didn't like cookin' that much."

Ennis finally looked up, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and sat back, mimicking Jack's position.

"Yeah, well…thought this would be a nice occasion. Don't have comp'ny too often."

Jack smiled and left it at that, satisfied with his explanation. They ate the rest of their breakfast in comfortable silence. Finally, Jack finished off his juice and stood up, grabbing both his and Ennis' plates and deposited them in the sink. He came back and sat down.

"Do ya get the Sunday paper?"

Ennis shook his head, and stood to put the carton of orange juice back in the fridge.

"Nah, I cancelled it, few months back. Got ta the point where I wasn't even readin' it, they jest started pilin' up 'round the house. Figured what's the point of payin' fer it if yer not gonna read it."

He sat back down and looked at Jack. There was a minute of quiet. Jack, squirming under Ennis' steady gaze, breached the silence.

"So what do ya do on Sunday's, Del Mar?"

"Nothin' very interestin', Twist."

They laughed and then Ennis answered seriously.

"I usually go inta work fer a couple hours and jest check up on how everythin's goin' without me there. Then, I do grocery shoppin' if I need it, and some laundry. Pretty standard stuff."

"You go inta work even on Sundays?"

Ennis shook his head and gave Jack a quirked smile.

"How many times I gotta explain that ranchin's a full time job?"

"Couple more should do the trick."

Ennis frowned slightly and then chuckled. "I don't go and do no real work, unless it's needed." He sighed. "I guess I just don't feel comfortable leavin' it up ta the hands. I don't trust many people 'cept myself."

Jack nodded in understanding. He had to wonder if there would ever come a time when Ennis could trust _him_. Maybe…

_"Not until ya tell him the truth 'bout why yer there! Ya gotta stop lyin' ta the man, n' jest get it over with."_

He hushed his inner thoughts, pushed them back down to hell. Just because he wasn't telling Ennis why he'd come didn't mean he was lying.

_"Except fer the fact that ya lied straight ta his face last night. Said ya came ta visit yer parents' farm. You'd consider that a lie, wouldn't you now?"_

Okay. So he'd lied, but he hadn't intended to. He'd known that eventually Ennis would want to know why he'd come to Wyoming, and he'd known that that would've been the time to spill the beans. Except when the time had come, he couldn't do it. Ennis had surprised him, the question had slid into the conversation like a snake in a fruit basket, and he hadn't been ready. He'd…He'd been noticing Ennis' friendly, kind eyes, noticing the way he smiled at him, how he'd told him he was disappointed when he'd thought Jack had left. He couldn't bear to tell him the truth and watch that friendly expression fall from his face. He didn't want Ennis to look at him differently, didn't want to be judged and kicked out of his house. So he'd lied, kept the charade up a little longer. The truth was too difficult to accept, and he just couldn't tell him. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to, but then…why else had he come?

"Say, howabout, you come with me today? I can show ya 'round the ranch. We can take the horses out, have a nice time. What d'ya say?"

Jack was jolted back to reality. He saw Ennis sitting across from him with a hopeful expression on his face, an open expression.

_"Has he always been like this? Is he always this…friendly?"_

Jack thought probably not. The book, which hadn't been wrong about _anything_ so far, portrayed Ennis as a cold sonofabitch, and from the way he'd been sitting in the bar that night all closed up and brooding, Jack thought its description was most likely dead on. So why was he different now?

"Okay. Sounds good ta me."

Ennis smiled. "Good."

They were both silent, smiling at each other. Jack sat up in his chair and stretched one more time.

"Hey Ennis, would it be okay if I took a shower? I haven't had one in a couple days, and I'm startin' ta feel pretty ripe."

Ennis blinked then looked over his shoulder in the direction of the bathroom.

"Uh,…sure. Let me just get ya a towel, and a bar a' soap."

He stood and walked out of the kitchen towards the back of the hallway. Jack watched him go, watched his long legs, watched how tightly his jeans clung to them. Before he realized what he was doing he whistled out loud, then immediately turned red, slapped a mental hand over his mouth.

_"What the fuck, Twist? What was that? What do ya think yer doin'?"_

Ennis didn't seem to notice though, as he continued his search for soap and towels in the linen closet. Jack _hoped_ he hadn't noticed, because that would be a hard one to explain.

_"Jesus. Keep that kinda thing ta yerself. It's bad enough yer even havin' those thoughts, but ya don't need ta let him know. Just try and keep it in yer pants fer the next couple a' days, all right?"_

"Got ya a towel. I'll show ya how ta work the shower."

Jack stood, shaking his head after Ennis was out of sight. How was he ever supposed to keep it in his pants when Ennis Del Mar went around turning on showers for him? He didn't know, and at the moment he didn't care. Jack walked into the bathroom, face red and a slight hitch in his step.

* * *

Ennis stood at the kitchen sink cleaning up the remains of their breakfast. He was scrubbing the pan that he'd used to cook the eggs and bacon. The water ran over his hands, warm, refreshing like a nice shower.

_"Hope me runin' the kitchen sink don't interfere with Jack's hot water."_

Jack Twist was in Ennis Del Mar's shower. Had been for at least ten or twelve minutes. He had to wonder what was taking him so long—Ennis was never one to take a shower for more than five, himself.

An image of Jack solidified in his mind. In the shower. Naked. Blood rushed to his cheeks and he felt his dick stir a little. He scrubbed the frying pan faster. He could just picture the hot water running down Jack's face, making tiny streams down his neck and back, across his chest. Jack's broad chest. Ennis closed his eyes.

_"Fuck that."_

He finished washing up the dishes, then dried his hands, realizing the shower had stopped.

_"Maybe the water did get cold on him. Guess I shoulda waited till he was done 'fore I started on the dishes."_

Ennis walked towards his bedroom. He needed to find his extra pair of riding gloves to loan to Jack. But before he could make it to his room, the door to the bathroom flew open and the man of the hour, towel wrapped around his waist, walked out, hair slick and black from the water, skin glistening and still moist.

Ennis stopped. Jack blushed slightly.

"Uh, sorry. I, uh, fergot my clothes…they're in my bag…gotta go get 'em."

The two awkwardly sidestepped each other, Ennis all the while trying not to focus too much on Jack's bare chest and arms. Ennis backed into his bedroom, closed the door behind him, and then forgot why he'd come in there to begin with.

"Gloves, right."

He hurriedly walked into his closet and grabbed his extra pair of gloves off of a shelf, then walked back to his door. He stopped when his hand was on the doorknob.

What if he wasn't dressed yet?

_"Don't want another awkward moment in the hallway do ya?"_

Ennis opened the door anyway, damning himself for being such a wuss. He'd seen lots of other guys in the buff, nothing wrong with that. Never bothered him before…well, maybe there were a couple times…But, still, nothing to get too worked up over. He was relieved to see, when he stepped into the hall, that Jack was nowhere in sight, and the bathroom door was closed which meant he was back inside changing. Ennis walked into the living room whistling, content to wait for Jack until he was ready.

But Jack was _already_ in the living room, and he wasn't exactly "ready". He had just pulled up his pants, but they'd been down long enough for Ennis to notice that he hand't been wearing anything underneath them. Ennis cleared his throat and stepped back.

"Oh, 'scuse me!"

Jack took a quick look in his direction and turned away, blushing as he zipped and buttoned his jeans.

" Jesus! Ya snuck up on me there! I…thought you was in yer room. Um,"

He kept his back to Ennis and started to button up his shirt.

"Sorry ya got an eyeful there. Guess I was in a hurry when I was leavin' n' I fergot ta pack enough boxers."

"S'alright." Ennis grumbled. "Are you ready, or what?"

"Yeah, I'll just hang my towel up in the bathroom."

Jack walked around Ennis, avoiding his glance. Ennis didn't look in his direction though, just continued starring blankly at the spot where Jack had been standing when he'd come upon him with his pants down.

* * *

The two rode around the north side of the Owl Creek Ranch, where there were lots of open fields and good scenery of the mountains, for a couple of hours. After Ennis had introduced Jack to the folks working that day, mostly hands and another assistant to the foreman, he'd shown him around the grounds, shown him where they took the stock out to graze, and then took him to some of the higher fields where the soil was good and they were thinking about tilling and planting sugar beets in the spring. Jack was amused that Ennis seemed mighty proud to be working on such a prosperous ranch, despite the fact he had told him that Owl Creek wasn't the 'best place he'd ever worked'.

Eventually Ennis had led him into the outer territories and their conversation had mostly trailed off. They rode in silence and absorbed the scenery—the Big Horn Mountains, and the beautiful greenery, were at its most lush in early summer. There was a slight breeze that kept the temperature bearable, despite the pounding sun overhead. Jack was left speechless by his surrounding. He'd never seen anything so majestic. Well, maybe when he was still living in Wyoming, but he'd been young then, and too busy trying to get away from his folks to truly appreciate the wonder of the rugged terrain.

It felt amazing to be on horseback again as well. It had been years since he'd ridden, since he'd worked with his hands out in nature. Jack had always loved the outdoors, always loved the rough lifestyle of the western cowboy and the freedom that came with it. It had been a dream of his when he was young, to be a part of the western tradition, to be a real cowboy. But Jack had only ever been a mediocre ranch hand, was never too dedicated, and had eventually decided the best way to pursue his dream was through the rodeo. Jack chuckled at the thought.

"_That worked out well."_

Ennis brought his horse, whose name he'd said was Jenny Wren, into a gallop. Jack gave his own mare, Delaney, a little kick and followed, but hung back slightly. Ennis was riding just a few feet ahead of him, and Jack had a perfect view. He took in the complete picture, from his muscular legs, strong from years of riding, to his blue-stripped shirt billowing in the breeze created by the speed of the horses. Jack, surprisingly, focused on his light blue shirt, which blended perfectly with the horizon, making Ennis look like he was flying. Jack felt like he was flying, himself, and not just because he was galloping. The last couple of days had been amazing. He'd never felt so free, never felt so…wonderfully alive. He thought he could do anything, and seriously felt he could take off, that his horse could run clear into the sky, defying the laws of gravity and anyone that said it was impossible.

They galloped at that pace for a while, but eventually slowed down to give the horses, and themselves, a rest. Ennis dismounted and tied Jenny Wren's reigns to a tree that was near by. Jack followed suit. Ennis then walked a little ways into the field and sat down next to a little fence, never tearing his gaze from the view of the mountains. Jack eased himself down next to Ennis, wincing a little at his tired back and legs. He certainly wasn't a young man anymore.

"I've always loved the view from up here. Think it's the best view on the whole ranch, s'why I brought ya up here."

Jack looked over at Ennis who seemed deep in thought, or at least deeply engrossed with the scenery, then turned to take a good look at what was before him. The small fence they were sitting next to made a straight line all the way down the hill as far as the eye could see. It almost reached the foot of the mountains, or so it seemed. All around them and out ahead were wild flowers of deep purple and some scatterings of yellow. Jack picked a small purple one next to him and twirled it around between his fingers. He looked back up. From where they were sitting the mountains were still a little distance away, but were quite visible. Jack could see the outlines of thousands of trees on the hulking figures, and the snow that lined the tops melded with the clouds in the sky.

Jack snuck a quick glance at Ennis, his eyes lingering on his lips. He sure wished he could touch him, wished he could touch his lips. Jack could only imagine what it would feel like to gently feel his arms circle him and then fall into the soft grass around them. They could make love cushioned by the wild flowers. Jack felt himself blush at his slightly girly fantasy, but didn't deny it. He wanted Ennis Del Mar. He accepted that now. Queer or no, he wanted Ennis like a person with debt wanted to win the lottery. He thought that feeling Ennis touch him might be the sweetest thing on Earth. Jack sighed. Ennis sighed.

"Yeah, I'll agree with ya, bud. This certainly is a nice view. Can't say I've seen much nicer, even in all the years I lived up in Lightening Flat and traveled 'round with the rodeo."

Ennis grabbed a handful of grass. "I've seen nicer."

Jack leaned back on his elbows. "Ya have?"

"Yeah. The prettiest damn sight ever. Only been there once, never been back. Too bad it's not around here…"

Ennis was frowning and his jaw was clenched, so he decided not to bother him with any more questions. He was content enough just to sit nextt to him almost close enough to touch, feel his presence, take in an eyeful of him right along with his eyeful of the mountains to the north.

They sat quietly for a few more minutes and then both re-mounted their horses and rode back to the ranch. Ennis did another once over before they headed off, made sure that all was under control and that no one had done anything that would get him in trouble with Stoutamire the next morning. All seemed well. So Ennis said a quick farewell, and then him and Jack headed out in Ennis' old Chevrolet.

* * *

By the time they got back and Ennis turned his pick-up into the drive, Jack saw there was a purple Sedan parked next to the carport, with just enough room for Ennis to squeeze his truck past. Jack assumed it belonged to Ennis' daughter.

It was already 5 o'clock in the early evening. The sun was getting close to setting, starting to make its downward journey, casting the sky and the clouds with slight shades of purple and pink. The colors wouldn't get bold until close to eight, though. Daylight seemed to last forever in early summer.

After Ennis had showed Jack around the Owl Creek Ranch, they'd headed once again to the Cedar Bar (they both silently agreed not to take anymore chances at Bottom's Up) and had a couple of beers. Ennis told Jack that Junior would probably be getting over to the house around 5:30. They'd had an early lunch when they were at the ranch, and hunger was starting to creep up on them again. It was after three, though, and they hadn't wanted to ruin their appetite for Junior's home cooking, so a diner was out. But relaxing with a couple drinks seemed just the thing, and the bar gave the men the perfect opportunity and atmosphere to shoot the shit.

Talking seemed to never grow old between them. They could talk for hours, once they got started, and surprisingly Jack wasn't the one always leading the conversation. Ennis had gotten more and more comfortable with Jack and now eagerly shared his portion, not afraid to let Jack know his opinions on _any_ topic, and having endless stories about his kids and about his past to share. Jack would listen just as eagerly as Ennis would talk—never getting tired of hearing the man speak, and vice versa. As time passed, Jack learned more and more about Ennis Del Mar, and in the meantime, learned more and more about himself.

Eventually Ennis noticed the time and they'd hightailed it out of the bar and back to Ennis' house, hoping to beat Junior there, but, alas, she'd arrived there earlier than expected.

"She's probably already inside, unloading groceries."

Jack laughed when they walked into the house to see that Junior was doing exactly that.

"Yep, I knew it." Ennis whispered loud enough for Junior to hear.

"Daddy, you talking ta yerself? I think I should start worryin' 'bout you!"

A lovely woman with shoulder length auburn hair stuck her head out of the kitchen where she had been taking fresh vegetables out of a paper grocery bag. She had a broad smile on her face and her eyes were twinkling. Jack could see a lot of Ennis in her.

The woman strode into the living room and met her dad halfway. Jack noticed she was barefoot and had purple toenail polish on. She was wearing jeans that were cut a little below the knee and a yellow sleeveless shirt. She was very becoming, radiant almost.

"Hey there, darlin'."

Ennis took her in his arms and gave her a short, tight hug, but she didn't let him get away too quickly. She held him for a moment longer, then finally released him.

"Daddy, I've missed you! It seems like it's been a while since I've seen you." She paused to think briefly. "Well, I guess it's only been a little over a week, but that's too long when ya jest live a couple miles away."

She stepped back and put her hands on her hips, turning her gaze to Jack. He noticed she had the same intense brown eyes as Ennis.

"Hello there. I'm Alma, but you can call me Junior, everyone does 'cept my mama." She held her hand out. Jack took it and shook it firmly.

"Jack Twist."

They shook hands for a minute then Junior gave Ennis a puzzled look. Ennis, suddenly realizing he'd been silent, stepped up and put his arm around Jack's shoulder, patting him a couple times on the back.

"Junior this here's my friend, Jack. Jack, this is my little girl, Junior. Jack was passing through town when his truck broke down, so I invited him ta stay here with me fer a while. Thought he could have dinner with us tonight."

Ennis lowered his arm. Junior's face lit up as understanding hit her.

"Well, of course he can! This is wonderful!"

She immediately walked closer to Jack and grabbed his hand again, taking it in both her hands this time.

"What a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Twist. I'm so glad that my daddy's finally found himself a friend. I'm always tellin' him he should go out and be more social."

Ennis chuckled softly to himself. Junior finally released Jack's hand, still smiling.

"Well, I'm gonna go ahead and start dinner. Mr. Twist, would you like to unpack the rest of the groceries?"

"I sure would, jest please, call me Jack."

"All right, Jack. Daddy, you can chop up the veggie's for the stew once Jack gets them unpacked and I clean them."

They all headed into the small kitchen.

"Hey now, I thought you was goin' ta do the cookin'. Why do I gotta do the dirty work."

"Daddy, who was the one that taught us we had ta work fer our food?"

Ennis chuckled again as Junior started to wash the vegetables and Jack unloaded the rest of the food from the paper bags.

"Ya got me there, darlin'. Ya got me there."

* * *

For dinner Junior made the best beef stew Jack had ever tasted in his life. It was hearty and filled to the brim with tender vegetables and pieces of roast that melted in his mouth. They also had mashed potatoes, homemade biscuits, a pitcher of fresh brewed sweet tea, and for dessert an apple pie Junior had made earlier in the day that shamed his own mama's. It was one of the best meals Jack had ever had, and the best company too.

During the meal, Jack had entertained Junior with some of his funniest (and most appropriate, of course) stories from his days in the rodeo. Ennis and his daughter had laughed through the whole meal. Eventually, the conversation lulled slightly and Junior sat up in her chair.

"So what brings you ta these parts, Jack? Daddy, said ya were passin' through."

Jack nodded his head and swallowed the food in his mouth.

"Yeah, I was jest came up to see how my parents' old farm is doin'. They passed on several years back, and the land was sold to the state; they was gonna use it fer some sort a crop er another. Last I heard, it was sold again to a man that was gonna try and start a cattle ranch, which is what it was to begin with. But that was a few years ago, so I thought I'd check up on it."

Junior nodded, listening intently. She took another bite of food.

"So how'd you n' Daddy meet each other? Ya seem like yer pretty good friends. Did ya know each other before or…?"

Jack looked over at Ennis. Ennis looked back at Jack. Ennis smiled.

"I helped him from gettin' his ass beat in a bar fight. Jest progressed from there."

Junior seemed a little confused, but shrugged and continued eating.

As the conversation continued, Jack had gotten to know Junior better, and found that she was one of the sweetest, most darling girls he'd ever known. Well, really she was a woman; she was 35 after all, but something about her made Jack think of a little girl. She reminded him of his granddaughter, Eliza, back home, just a little more demure. Junior certainly was friendly, and she knew how to make conversation, but Jack could tell that she was fairly shy and probably pretty quiet on most occasions. She was definitely Ennis Del Mar's daughter.

_"The apple never falls too far from the tree. True fer Bobby too, though it's not my tree he fell from."_

Jack was always a little saddened at thoughts of Bobby, at the thought of how he'd turned out. Now certainly, Bobby was a fine man, Jack would be the first to stand and admit that, but…it seemed like he was more of Lureen and L.D.'s son than his. Jack was ashamed, because really, he thought Bobby would have grown up like him, if he'd had more of an influence and hadn't handed L.D. the reigns without so much as a fight. It was a shame. Jack's little boy, little no more. Jack shook away his sad thoughts and returned to his present company. He took one final bite of pie.

"Woo! Junior, let me tell you, that was one a' the best meals I've ever had."

Ennis nodded his silent agreement, and shoveled another bite of pie into his mouth. Junior just blushed and ducked her head a little. A small smile touched her lips.

"It wasn't much. You're just a sweet talker, Jack Twist! I bet you tell all the girls that."

"Well, I never meant it 'till now. I'm serious; this was a doozy of a meal. Shoot, this pie rivals my own mamas!"

Junior blushed again and laughed softly. Ennis smiled.

"Junior's always had a knack fer cookin'. She once entered the local Pillsbury cookin' contest and won first prize. $500. She was gonna go on ta nationals, but she couldn't get the time off a' work."

Jack shook his head in amazement. "I bet ya would've won nationals too."

"Maybe." Junior looked down at her plate, then quickly raised her head again, big smile on her face.

"How 'bout you help me clean the dishes, Jack."

Jack nodded, said 'sure thing' and stood up to help collect the dinner plates. Ennis stood as well.

"I think I'm gonna go out n' have a smoke. I'll be in 'n a bit."

Ennis headed out a side door that led to the back yard. Through the kitchen window, Jack could see him sit down on the back patio and pull out his lighter and a pack of cigarettes. Junior was already standing at the sink, starting in on the dirty dishes.

"You can dry."

She handed Jack a dishtowel.

"Ya know, he has a dish washer, but it's been broken ever since he's owned the house, and he's never thought ta have it fixed. He's been living here, what five years now?"

Junior looked out the window at the seated figure of her dad. She sighed.

"Thank you, Jack."

He was surprised by her comment and looked up quickly, nearly losing his grip on the plate and dropping it.

_"Just what Ennis needs, another broken plate."_

He set the plate down carefully on the rack to finish drying.

"Now what're ya doin' thankin' me? I didn't do nothin'."

Junior shook her head and laughed. "Yes ya did."

She looked back outside at Ennis.

"I've never seen Daddy like this. He seems…hell, I don't know. He's usually a lot more intense. I don't think I've ever seen him laugh so much, in fact, I can't remember _ever_ seein' him laugh. And there's something…just…different 'bout him. His face seems brighter, or, I don't know how ta describe it. He seems more open; he isn't slumping his shoulder as much as usual, it's really…amazing."

Jack was speechless. So he'd been right. Ennis _wasn't_ always like this. Jack's heart beat a little faster and his stomach rose up into his throat. Jack grabbed the plate that Junior was holding in his direction and began drying vigorously. He could barely get his voice to work.

"So, what d'ya mean? Are ya sayin' it's because a' me?"

Junior nodded, but kept her eyes on the sudsy water. "Well, what else would it be?" She turned the water off for a minute and then raised her head, looked Jack straight in the eye.

"I can see it. When Daddy's around you he jest lights up. I can sense it from you too. I can tell you're gonna be real good friends, the best of friends if Daddy has any say in it."

She rested her hand on her hip and looked outside. Ennis stood and began to head back towards the house.

"So I jest wanted ta thank ya, when Daddy wasn't 'round ta hear. He's funny about sentimental stuff. He'd probably never admit how much he likes you, but I know him well enough that I can tell." She paused and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand.

"Daddy's always been real lonely. I'm glad he met you."

She gave Jack one more sincere look and then the side door opened and Ennis came strolling in. He walked over and planted a kiss on Junior's cheek, then gave Jack a lingering look. Jack thought his heart might stop.

Junior finished cleaning up the kitchen and then packed up some of the things she'd brought from her house, a big pot for stew, a couple jars of spices, stuff that Ennis had never bothered to buy.

After she was all packed up she said a final goodbye to Jack, gave him a hug and a knowing look before she turned and headed into the living room. Ennis followed behind and Jack stayed back, giving the two a moment of private father/daughter time.

Junior gave Ennis a tight hug and then pulled away. He opened the door for her.

"Thank ya, darlin', fer cookin' dinner fer me n' Jack."

"Well, the Lord knows, a couple a' old men like you know yer way around the kitchen 'bout as good as a blind man. It's the least I could do."

She turned to leave and then stopped.

"Oh, and Daddy? Yer still planin' on comin' ta Curt's birthday dinner this Tuesday, right?"

Ennis sighed and mumbled something that Jack couldn't make out from the kitchen.

"You have ta come, fer me if fer anyone. I know how you don't like bein' round Mama and Bill and the boys, but you're my daddy, and Curt's father-in-law, and I'd just love fer you ta come."

Ennis hung his head for a minute then agreed to go. Junior smiled wide.

"Nice meetin' you again, Jack!" She called before she left.

"Pleasure's all mine!" Jack returned. And then she was gone, and Jack and Ennis were alone in the house once again.

Ennis wandered back into the kitchen and gave Jack a sly look. Jack found himself wanting more than anything to stand up and take that man in his arms, press his lips against his, feel his heart beat. Jack bit the inside of his mouth.

"So what'd ya think of my little girl?"

"She sure is somethin'. Sweet little gal. Best damn cook I've ever known."

Ennis smiled, proud of his daughter and visibly pleased with Jack's praise, then sat down at the table across from Jack. Ennis starred down at his hands, smiling, chuckling softly to himself. Jack leaned forward.

"And can I ask you what's so funny?"

Ennis stopped chuckling and looked up at Jack with the most endearing expression Jack thought he'd ever seen.

"You wanna play checkers?"

Jack, slightly surprised at the simplicity of his request, shrugged.

"Sure, you got a board?"

Ennis stood and looked around.

"Yeah, think so. It's probably in the closet down the hall. Be right back."

* * *

Jack was sitting alone on Ennis Del Mar's couch. It was the third day he'd spent at Ennis' small house, and unfortunately, it was also going to be his last.

He sat with the book opened in front of him, open to the title page.

_Brokeback Mountain._

He didn't need to read it to know what it said, by now he had the entire story memorized, engrained in his mind, probably forever.

Jack wiped his eyes with his sleeve and cursed himself for crying.

_"Good Lord, Jack, you get worse every day. It's not bad enough to want ta fuck another man, and then to have fantasies 'bout rollin' around in a field with him, but now yer crying. Have some dignity at least, save yer balls 'fore they fall off and leave ya with a vagina."_

He didn't care about dignity, though. The voice in his head could condemn and tease and judge all it wanted, but Jack Twist was beyond caring now.

He'd gotten a call from the auto shop. Amazingly, they'd gotten the part quicker than Jack would have ever imagined they could. His truck would be ready by the evening before the shop closed.

"We had the Tom Youtz Ford Dealership from Lander send their courier over with the parts this mornin'. Lander ain't too far from here, maybe thirty miles or so. Anyway, one a' the boy's been workin' on yer truck all afternoon and we can have it ready by the time we close at seven."

"What? How is that possible? I thought it'd at least take a week, or somethin'!"

"You complainin'? Cuz, I can tell Joe ta stop, take my time if'n you want."

"…No." A pause. "I'll be there ta pick it up at seven."

"All righty. We've always prided ourselves in speedy service. Though I will say, that even I was a little surprised at how fast that courier got over here. Must a' been a slow day over at Tom Youtz!"

"Yeah."

Jack had hung the phone up in a daze. Who heard of a country body shop having 'speedy service'? Leave it to fate. When he wanted speedy service, he never got it, and the one time he wanted more than anything else for the auto shop to take their lousy time, they actually decided to get something done as soon as possible. Perfect.

It was then that it had hit him, this all meant he would be leaving Ennis the next morning. He couldn't very well stay forever, and now his reason for staying was no longer valid, so that meant 'so long' for Jack Twist.

"Hit the road, Jack. And don't ya come back no more."

Jack had laughed for a minute and then his laughter had turned to tears. He felt like he was shrinking into the floor, like everything was falling apart around him. He didn't want to leave; he couldn't leave, at least not yet. Not after he'd made friends with this man, not after he'd come to…

And now here he was, sitting on the couch with the book on his lap. His eyes were dry; he hadn't let the tears flow for long.

Brokeback Mountain.

The words stared at him. They accused him. They taunted him.

"Queer boy, queer boy, in love with a man! How 'bout you go fuck him then?" They said.

Jack twisted the pages in his fists. He hated the book. He hated himself for ever buying it, for ever reading it. He snatched it up roughly and threw it across the room towards the front window, letting out an animalistic cry of anguish. It hit a lamp perched on a side table, nearly knocked it over, but then it settled and all was silent.

He stared in the direction he threw the book with burning eyes.

"Fuck you. Fuck you, Annie Proulx. I don't know why you wrote that fuckin' story, or where ya got yer information in the first place, but I hate you. Fuck you. Fuck you fer makin' me feel like this."

He wanted to punch everything in sight. He wanted to stand up and grab the fire poker Ennis had threatened him with and bash everything to little pieces. He didn't give a fuck if it did belong to Ennis, in fact, that fact just fueled his desire to create havoc.

But somehow, he was able to get control of himself. Somehow he was able to let his anger go, let it dissolve, because all it did was cloak what Jack was really feeling. Loss.

"This is one big fucking disaster. I should have never come. Never."

It was bad enough what he was putting himself through, but now he'd gotten another person involved, an innocent bystander. Ennis. Jack felt sorrow overwhelm him again at the thought of leaving, but was able to fight back the tears this time. He thought about what Junior had told him. Thought about how he'd brought Ennis out of his shell, even if it was just a little, thought how Ennis liked him as a friend.

"Daddy's always been real lonely. I'm glad he met you."

He was glad he'd met him too. Because Jack was a lonely man also, most likely as lonely as Ennis Del Mar. He had never had a real friend, and he'd found that in Ennis. He'd found more too, but first of all, he'd found a friend. An honest to God, true blue, best friend.

"I can't believe it has to end now. After only two days. Two days, and we've got to part. Two days, and I feel like I've known him forever. Two days, and leaving him may be the hardest thing I've ever done."

He sat in silence while the minutes ticked by, running the events of the past couple of days over and over in his mind. It seemed completely unreal, like some sort of dream. He figured any minute he'd wake up and fall off his own couch back in Childress, hit the ground hard, and realize that his entire trip to Riverton had been imagined, the book had been imagined, Ennis Del Mar had been imagined.

Then there was the whole question of whether he was going to tell Ennis about the story or not. He was leaving anyway, so what was the harm, right? He could tell him when he got home. Jack dreaded that confrontation. What would Ennis do? How would he take it? He couldn't just leave without telling the truth.

Jack shook his head. He really should never have come. He should have listened to his common sense and stayed away from Wyoming. He should have. But unfortunately, he had come and there was no going back now. So the question was, tell Ennis, or no?

Just then a truck pulled up to the carport outside of the small white house. Jack jumped up.

"Shit!"

What time was it? Jack ran into the kitchen, frantically trying to see what the little digital clock on the microwave said. 5:30. He must have been sitting on the couch longer than he thought.

"What the fuck? Where did all the time go?"

The front door opened, and Jack whirled around, not sure what to do with himself. He rubbed at his face, hoping to bring back the color to his face. He put on a big smile as Ennis walked in the door.

"Hey there, Bud! Glad yer here."

Ennis dropped his hat and keys on the side table that sat by his recliner.

"Glad I'm here, too."

He smiled and stood in front of Jack awkwardly for a moment. It looked like he wanted to hug him, maybe, but then he sidestepped around him and opened a cabinet to get a glass. He filled the glass with water from the kitchen faucet.

"Want some?"

Jack leaned on the counter. "Uh. Sure."

Ennis grabbed Jack a glass and then leaned on the counter next to him.

"So what ya been doin' all day long?"

Jack looked down. He knew he couldn't keep it from him forever. He needed Ennis to drive him to go pick up his truck anyway because he was damned if he'd ever walk there again. He sat down at the table and tried to be as casual as possible.

"I heard from Bailey Tire today. They, uh, got the parts in."

Ennis walked slowly towards the chair across from Jack.

"Oh really? Well that's good. Does that mean yer truck will be ready soon?"

Jack laughed. A bitter laugh, the only thing keeping him from screaming.

"Yeah. They were real speedy with it fer once. Well, I dunno, maybe auto shops 'round here are efficient, but I know down in Texas, they sure do like takin' their time."

"So when's it gonna be ready?"

There was some hesitation in Ennis' voice. Jack hoped maybe he was feeling the same dread he was. He kept his eyes on the ground.

"Good news! They said it would be ready today. I need ta go n' pick it up tonight, which means I can be on my way tomorrow, won't have ta take advantage of yer hospitality no more."

He looked over at Ennis but Ennis had turned away. His eyes were fixed on something down the hallway by the bedroom. Jack could only guess what was going through his mind. He doubted it was anywhere near as troubled as his own thoughts, though.

"I was hopin' that maybe you could give me a ride over there tonight ta pick it up."

Ennis abrubtly turned back to Jack. His voice was rough. "You'd be leavin' in the mornin' then?"

"Yeah. Early. Maybe 'round five or so."

Ennis nodded. "Sure I can give you a ride ta the shop. No problem."

He coughed and then took another swig from his water glass. Jack hadn't touched his.

"When do ya need ta go get it?"

"They said it'd be ready by seven or so."

Ennis stood. "Well let's get goin' then."

Jack looked at the clock. "It's only 5:30."

"I know, but we can get something ta eat and then pick it up. Come on."

Jack stood hesitantly. "Don't you want ta relax or somethin'? Ya jest got back from work."

Ennis walked into the living room and picked up his hat and keys. He placed the hat firmly on his head.

"Yeah, well I got the rest of my life fer that. Only got one more night ta spend with you."

Jack swallowed hard. Swallowed more than just saliva, and then followed Ennis out the door.

* * *

Jack pulled his truck up next to the curb outside Ennis' house. He'd followed him back from the Bailey Tire and Auto Shop. It was running smoothly now and he was pretty impressed. The pick up ran worlds different than what he'd remembered, must have been having trouble before and not even noticed.

He put it in park and rolled up his windows. He was fairly pleased. It had been cheaper than what Reggie had quoted, only putting him back $745. But of course, Jack Twist was not a man that had to pinch pennies.

He hopped down from the passenger side seat and walked up Ennis' drive. Ennis was outside of his truck, but was standing with his arm propped on the still open driver side door. He appeared to be deep in thought, starring off into the distance. Jack followed his gaze to the mountains, and saw that the sun was fully setting now, shades of pink and red filling the sky like blood.

Ennis didn't look his way when he approached, just continued to gaze into the distance. They stood in silence.

"The mountains sure are pretty up here," Jack commented. "I still miss 'em. I may have left Wyoming nearly forty years ago, but I don't think I'll ever get the Rockies out a' my blood."

Ennis remained silent. Jack sighed.

"Well, shall we go in?"

Before they'd gone to get Jack's truck, Ennis had taken him to a steak house called the Trailhead between Pure Gas Rd. and Forest Dr. It had been a nice meal, nowhere near as good as Junior's home cooking, but tasty nonetheless. They'd eaten in silence mostly, odd since they hadn't stopped talking since they'd met. It hadn't been an awkward silence, but it had been tainted with a hint of sadness, sadness for the quick approaching dawn, unstoppable and forceful as an oncoming train.

They'd gotten to Bailey's Tire and Auto at ten minutes till seven, just before they were about to close, and sure enough, there sat Jack's F-150, just as pretty as a rose, in the parking lot. After Jack had paid with his credit card, a young guy (Reggie was nowhere in sight) pulled the truck around the front for Jack and that had been that. His truck was fixed, and his heart was breaking, but that was just the way the wind blew, wasn't it?

Ennis seemed like he hadn't heard Jack when he'd suggested they go inside. He was miles away, deeper in his thoughts than Jack had ever seen him. In the silence, Jack could hear some kids down the street yelling and laughing, might have been the same ones he'd seen messing around with the skateboard the first night he'd come to Ennis' house, before he'd met him at the bar. A cool breeze rustled the trees and blew past the two men, causing Jack to shiver and grab at his shoulders. He remembered what Ennis had said that night they'd first met. That night when they'd been just as hesitant to part as they were now.

"It's the mountain air comin' down from the north."

Just then Ennis turned around and faced Jack.

"I want ta show ya somethin'."

Jack was silent. Bit his tongue and shoved away any dirty thoughts he might've had.

"Okay. Is it in the house?"

"No. We'll have ta drive ta get there. Probably take us a couple a' hours."

Jack was confused. "A couple a' hours? Where ya wanna take me? What ya wanna show me?"

Ennis took a step closer to Jack. "Ya said ya won't ever get the mountains outta yer blood?"

"Yeah, but…"

Ennis looked off again. "Remember yesterday when I told ya 'bout how I'd seen a sight even nicer than the spot I showed you? Said I'd only been there once?"

Jack was getting a little suspicious at Ennis' behavior. It was like some crazy bee had gotten into his bonnet, and he'd let it take control. He had a faraway look and a twinkle in his eye.

"I do remember. What's that gotta do with anythin'?"

"I wanna take ya there. I wanna show ya."

He turned back to Jack.

"This may be the last time we'll ever see each other, so I wanna show ya something I ain't never shown anyone else. I want ya ta see."

Jack didn't know what to say. All he could do was nod his head. Ennis closed his truck door and headed towards the house.

"I'm gonna get us some beers and some food. Once we get there, we may wanna stay fer a while. I'll be right back."

"Ennis! What about sleepin'? We'll get back aweful late n' you gotta work tommorow!"

"So! You gotta drive tomorrow! And we shouldn't be back any later than the night we were out drinkin'. We can catch up on sleep. This is a once in a lifetime sorta thing. So come on! You may wanna go ta the bathroom 'fore we leave."

Jack shook his head in amazement. Just when he thought he was getting to know that man. He jogged up Ennis' walkway and went into the house.

* * *

They arrived at the southern section of the Teton Mountain range around 9:30. It was full out night now, but the moon was bright overhead. The ride over had been mostly silent. Jack sat, confused, in the passenger seat, and Ennis hardly ever took his eyes off the road except to adjust the heater and ask Jack if he was cold or not.

When they finally began to pass signs for The Grand Teton National Park, Ennis started talking.

"We ain't goin' ta the park. That's too far away, n' too touristy anyhow."

Jack nodded, silent. Ennis continued talking.

"I came up here once 'fore I moved back ta Riverton; it was when I was in Signal workin' on Stoutamire's cow and calf operation."

Ennis turned the Chevrolet onto and old trail for motorized vehicles that snaked through some thick forest, sagebrush and a lot of pine trees brushed past the windows of the truck. Jack remained silent, letting Ennis continue his story without interruption.

"We were movin' the herd from Stoutamire's out ta some large meadows a little west a' the Tetons. We didn't take the stock up, obviously, but I saw this area as I was passin' through. One night, we were camped out a few miles from some a' the plotted trails on the mountain, so I left with my horse and decided ta explore. I was curious as hell, and I couldn't sleep, and I figured, why not?"

The truck continued its trek north even as the road got narrower and more overgrown. Jack figured it wouldn't be long before they'd have to go on foot.

"I came up here, ta this one particular spot, not too far up the mount, but just high enough ta have a clear view a' the rest of the peak. It was by a little stream."

Ennis put the Chevrolet in park and turned off the engine. He turned to Jack.

"I wanted ta show ya this. The idea struck me yesterday when we were out at Owl Creek. I figured we'd have more time and we could come at our leisure, but then, well…anyway, I been runin' it through my head all evenin', and I know it's crazy and spur a' the moment, not like me at all, but I just had ta bring ya here."

He turned away and opened his door to get out. Jack was speechless. He couldn't move. Ennis turned back to him.

"Well come on. We don't got all night."

Jack opened his door, slowly like he was in a daze, and stepped out of the truck. He buttoned up his leather jacket—the air had to be near freezing. Ennis came around the front, six-pack and a bag of food in hand. He handed the six-pack to Jack.

"We still got us a little bit of a walk, but it won't take too long. I tried ta get the truck as close as possible."

Jack looked around, saw trees for miles, and that was about it.

"Will we be able ta find our way back?"

Ennis nodded and started walking. "There's a trail here. It may be hard ta see, but I can follow it. It leads ta the camp site I want ta show ya anyway, so we won't be goin' off course. Come on."

Jack followed, helpless not to. He thought he'd follow that man anywhere.

They walked for maybe ten or fifteen minutes, and Jack was starting to get a little out of breath. Ennis seemed fine, but the cold air and the uphill climb were taking its toll on Jack's old body.

"Shoot. This is tough. Hope we don't have much farther ta go."

As if reading his mind, Ennis stopped. Jack realized they were at their final destination and stopped too. His chest was burning slightly, but over his heavy breathing he could hear the soft trickle of a stream some where in front of him. In the moonlight he could see the outline of a small, man-made footbridge. There was a pit where fires had long ago been started and extinguished and some logs were placed around it. Ennis was looking up at the sky.

"Here it is. Most beautiful spot in the world; Brokeback Mountain."

Jack looked over at Ennis. His face was still facing heavenwards and his mouth was hanging slightly opened. If it had been raining he might have drowned.

Jack felt an eerie calm settle over him, he could hear the stream and the nighttime chatter of animals in the surrounding forest.

"Brokeback Mountain. Goddamn."

Some how he wasn't surprised at all. It just seemed right. Perfect, really. It was like another piece of the crazy puzzle fitting together.

Jack caught his breath and finally looked around at his surroundings. He could see the hulking shapes of several mountains in the distance and to his right the highest peak of Brokeback jutted out, covered in snow. The snow was impossibly white, even in the darkness; it seemed to give out its own light almost like the moon. The peak itself reached up indefinitely high, it seemed to touch the stars, to scrape heaven. Below it, pine trees stood up in masses, a carpet of evergreen—flawless contrast to the night sky. The stars overhead were closer than he'd ever seen them before, bright lanterns, so clear it almost hurt to look at them. The air was crisp and cool, since he was standing still, it felt cool on his burning lungs, felt good to breath it in, like it was cleaner than the air down below. All around was the thick smell of pine. It was breathtaking. It was the most wonderful natural sight Jack had ever seen, blew his other escapades into the mountains as a young rodeo cowboy out of the water. He decided that when he died, he really wouldn't mind having his ashes scattered here.

"Just like Brokeback Jack."

He shivered a little. No thoughts of death. Not now. Not standing on Brokeback next to the man he…next to Ennis Del Mar.

Jack turned his gaze to the other man and saw that he was already looking his way. Ennis' eyes were on fire, seemed like the stars from the sky had taken residence in his skull. He took a step closer to Jack. There was a moment of silence, then Ennis held out his hand.

"Can I have a beer?"

Jack felt like his heart was beating a million times a minute. For a minute, he had felt positive Ennis had wanted to kiss him. But maybe that was his own desire clouding his judgment. Nothing would have been better at that moment than the feel of Ennis' lips on his skin.

He walked over to one of the logs and sat down, brought the six-pack to his lap and pulled one off its plastic ring and handed it to Ennis. Their hands touched during the exchange, and they both let the contact linger. Electricity.

"It's like fire when he touches me. Fire between us."

Jack pulled another beer out for himself and touched it to his forehead. Despite the frigid air, he was burning up. Ennis sat down next to him on the log. He drank from his can of beer and looked out into the distance, at the other snow-capped peaks.

They sat in silence again. Not many words were exchanged between them that evening. Not many had to be. They both knew what was coming the next morning, and rather than spoil it with meaningless conversation, they enjoyed the simple comfort of each other's company. They drank the beers and shared the food Ennis had packed, two peanut butter sandwiches, a bag of pork rinds and a chocolate bar that Junior had given Ennis that had been sitting in his pantry for a month. It was delicious though, its taste intensified by the atmosphere of the mountain and by the presence of the other man.

Jack felt good. He felt sleepy. He felt full. He felt cold. He felt sad, and happy, and confused, and young, and alive. The important thing was; he felt.


	10. Chapter 10

_The wild and windy night that the rain washed away,_

_has left a pool of tears; crying for the day._

_Why leave me standing here?_

_Let me know the way…_

Ennis stood helpless as Jack put his bag in the passenger seat of his truck. It was 5:30; the sun was barely visible over the horizon, but the morning birds could be heard clearly, and there was brightness to the dark sky that screamed 'morning's coming'. Ennis should have already left for work, but that morning work was the last thing on his mind. That morning everything was falling apart around him. He was lost. A large gap had opened in his chest and he felt that soon it would swallow him whole. At least then he wouldn't have to face Jack, the best friend he'd had and maybe ever would have, leaving.

Of course Ennis didn't want Jack to leave; he would have asked him to stay, but he didn't now how to go about it, and there really was no reason _for_ him to stay. Ennis had stepped into a lot of new and frightening territory since meeting Jack, he'd done many things he'd never dreamed of before, and felt better than he had in years, or maybe better than he ever had. But Ennis Del Mar could only do so much at a time. He was a man not accustomed to change, and expressing how he felt and what he wanted was something he still was unsure of. So he couldn't tell Jack that he wanted him to stay longer, that he wanted him to stay as long as possible because the idea of never seeing him again made all of his previous losses seem like a stroll in the park.

Jack slammed the passenger door of his truck, still parked at the curb, and turned towards Ennis who was a few feet away on the driveway. Jack leaned against the side of the Ford pick up and propped one foot on the running board, crossed his arms over his chest. Ennis saw Jack; saw him completely, from his boots to the top of his black Stetson. That man was the closest thing to art Ennis Del Mar had ever seen, even if he wouldn't quite admit it.

Ennis locked his own brown eyes with Jack's deep blue ones, held them for a moment, and then looked down at the cracked cement below his worn boots. He couldn't look into those blue eyes now; it was too much. They were a reminder of what he was losing, held the memories of stories and laughs and brief moments when Ennis' hand had brushed his.

Jack Twist. Ennis felt his chest clinch and bile rose in the back of his throat. He had to swallow hard and suck in a deep breath to keep from breaking character. Ennis was a man that wore many masks, and at the moment he was trying to give off an air of quiet indifference. He was _trying_ anyway.

_"Why is this so hard? It shouldn't be like this. It shouldn't be this hard to watch him go."_

Jack lowered his foot from the running board and took a few steps in Ennis' direction. His thumbs were hooked on the belt loops of his jeans, and he looked like he didn't know what to do with his hands. Ennis briefly considered the possibilities of what Jack _could_ do with his hands, and then quickly brushed it aside.

"Well, friend, I can't thank ya enough fer lettin' me stay at yer place. It was…"

Jack breathed in and looked down. After a minute he raised his head again, and met Ennis' eyes, but said nothing, just chewed a little on his bottom lip.

Ennis figured Jack was waiting for him to say something, but he was always terrible in 'goodbye' situations, especially this one. He looked back down at his boots and put his hands in his pockets.

"It's…uh, it's no problem. I jest hope all goes well with yer parents' land up in Lightenin' Flat."

Ennis didn't see Jack's expression at the mention of his parents, but he heard his voice, which was quiet and slightly rough.

"I'm sure it'll all work out fine." He cleared his throat a little. "I wanted ta tell ya…"

He stopped again and shuffled his feet around. Ennis looked back up, and then Jack came a few steps closer. They were maybe two feet apart now. Jack cleared his throat again.

"What I wanted ta tell ya was…that I had a great time up here with ya, Ennis. I'm gonna miss ya. I, uh…hope we can stay friends."

Ennis felt like something was breaking inside of him. He felt his tough, nonchalant mask slip to the wayside. Jack's eyes…they were sad, but there was also a little hope. They said so much, so much more than the words that were coming from his mouth. Ennis thought he was looking for something, maybe looking for an invitation to stay longer? He couldn't be sure, and he didn't want to put himself out on a line. It pained him to not be able to express himself, to not be able to show how he felt. He wanted to, wanted to badly, to let Jack know that he wasn't the only one feeling this horrible cloud of despair, he wasn't the only one… Ennis wanted more than anything to reach out and touch him then, to grab him in a hug and not let him go. Jack made a motion like he was about to turn away and head back to his truck, and miraculously, Ennis, despite his resignation and his trouble showing his true feelings, felt himself reach out and place a hand on Jack's shoulder. Jack stopped and turned full towards him. His eyes wide, and blue, and full of something else Ennis couldn't put his finger on.

In one quick motion, he swept Jack up into a tight bear hug, grabbing at him hard and rough with his hands, not wanting to loosen his grip for fear he might disappear and all this would turn out to be a dream. Jack clung just as tightly to Ennis, whispering something over and over, something Ennis couldn't quite make out, but sounded like "Goddamn, goddamn."

His heart was beating fast. He was reeling with the full contact they were making. Over the past few days, they'd touched a couple times, briefly, usually by accident, accept for the time he'd put his arm around Jack's shoulder and patted him on the back, but not even that could compare to this. The feel of his own body pressed tightly against the other man's, with Jack's arms wrapped as tightly around him as his were wrapped around Jack. His stomach was somersaulting, and for a brief moment, the tightness in his chest and the hole that had threatened to swallow him up had been forgotten. All he could think about was that one moment, and how Jack was pressed full against him, and the smell of Jack's cologne on his neck, the feel of his rough skin and his smooth black hair.

Ennis suddenly returned to reality, realized he was clutching another man as though he were a security blanket, realized he had once again stepped out of his comfort zone, and then froze up. He patted Jack on the back real friendly like, and backed up, trying to break the hug. Jack held on for a second longer, despite his attempts, and then finally let go. They stepped apart awkwardly, all the things unsaid still unsaid, all the feelings felt still felt, lying between them like a boulder.

Ennis coughed and averted his eyes, looked at his watch, then looked back towards his small white house. The sun was rising quick and with a vengeance, a constant reminder that Ennis had to get going, had to start his day at work, and had to let the man standing in front of him leave, no matter how much it pained him.

_"S'not right ta get so worked up over a man anyway. Jest get a move on, and that'll be that."_

Jack saw Ennis' antsy behavior and knew he was anxious to get the day started.

"All right. I guess I'll see ya 'round, then."

Ennis nodded his head. Jack nodded his head. Neither wanting to meet eyes, both wanting to get the inevitable over as quickly as possible.

Jack walked back to his truck, opened the driver side door and climbed behind the wheel. He started the engine and gave Ennis a final, brief wave before pulling away from the curb and driving off. Ennis watched him go, feeling more helpless than he'd felt before.

Eventually he was able to force his legs to move, and he ambled back into the house, head hung low, ready to get back to his usual schedule, his usual days of nothing—life the way it had been before he'd met Jack Twist. He opened the front door and looked around his living room aimlessly. His eyes snuck over to the front window that had a view of the front drive and the street outside. Ennis looked back at his watch. He knew he had to get to work, was never one to be late, but he couldn't deny the urge to stand at the window and look out on the driveway where he and Jack had stood, clinging to one another for dear life, a few minutes before. He followed his instincts for the umpteenth time since Friday evening, and went over to the window.

He opened the blinds enough for a clear view and stared, forlorn at the cement driveway with weeds growing in the cracks, and the empty street beyond. The view mirrored how he was feeling at that precise moment: desolate and lonely.

_"Hell, Jack's been gone, what five minutes? And I'm already missing him like he's been gone fer weeks."_

The truth was, Ennis had started to miss Jack the previous evening when he'd told him the part for his truck was in and that he'd be leaving the next morning. Ennis had known at the time their parting would be rough, but he'd had no idea it was going to be as bad as it had. Felt like he'd been kicked in the gut by a horse. And he _had_ been kicked by a horse before, so he knew how it felt.

Ennis sighed. He wasn't supposed to be feeling like he was. He wasn't supposed to feel like the world had ended just because Jack had gone away. He wasn't supposed to like Jack as much as he did. Ennis had never felt this way about anyone except maybe his daughters, but that was different. It wasn't desperate and aching and needing. He didn't _need_ to be with them. He loved every moment he spent with his girls, and certainly took advantage of any time he could get with them, but he didn't feel like the ground was swallowing him up when he wasn't with them. He didn't feel like everything was stopping when they left.

Ennis finally resigned himself to finish getting ready and head to work. He had to make himself some coffee, didn't want any food because he felt a little sick. He'd offered to make Jack some coffee before he left, hoping to prolong his departure, but Jack had shook his head, said he should get on the road, said he would stop to get breakfast along the way.

He swallowed, once again reminded of the finality of Jack's leaving. He stepped back from the window, and felt something crush slightly under his boot. He looked down and saw an open book below him. Ennis quirked his head and bent closer so he could read the title of the book.

Close Range: Wyoming Stories by Annie Proulx 

Ennis kneeled to pick it up.

"_Jack must've left it here."_

He flipped through the pages absent mindedly, and the book opened to the very back. There in black and white, was a familiar title.

Brokeback Mountain 

Ennis squinted, to make sure he was reading it right. Brokeback Mountain? Jack owned a book about Brokeback, the place Ennis had always thought was a fairly well kept secret except to the locals? He frowned. He knew that Jack couldn't have bought it after they went up there, but what were the odds that he'd bought it before? Some coincidence.

Ennis shrugged. He didn't have time to worry about it at the moment. He walked into the kitchen and pulled out some instant coffee, since he didn't have time to make a pot of the real stuff. He filled a travel mug Jenny had brought him from California with water and put in two spoonfuls of Maxwell House coffee then placed it in the microwave. He set the time, yawned and stretched. He hadn't slept at all the night before. He'd gone to his bedroom after they'd gotten back and had just lain staring at the ceiling.

The microwave beeped and Ennis took the mug out, taking a small sip and as usual burning his tongue. He headed into the living room and grabbed his hat and his keys, then remembered his reading glasses were sitting on the nightstand in his bedroom. He left his house close to six, coffee, glasses, and book firmly in hand.

* * *

Jack was cruising south down Interstate 25, Riverton nearly four and a half hours behind him, Denver about twenty minutes ahead.

His parting with Ennis that morning had been awkward. He'd felt like he was dying the whole time, and had barely managed to get into his truck and drive away. Somehow he'd done it, though Ennis' stony demeanor may have aided his nerve slightly.

Ennis Del Mar was something else. One minute he was open and caring, and the next thing Jack knew he 'd constructed a fifty-foot wall around him; impenetrable to everyone—trying to break it down only made it worse.

It had started the night before when they'd finally gathered the trash they'd scattered and headed back down the trail to Ennis' pick up. Jack had been flying, was higher than a kite from the mountain air and the close proximity to the object of his affection. Ennis, on the other hand, had started to withdraw and build up his tough exterior. Before Jack knew it, Ennis had become the person he'd seen in the bar Friday night. He was quiet, a little defensive, and something in him had just closed up. Jack had been hoping, from some of the signs Ennis had given, that 'something' might have happened before he left the next morning. But he should have known better, should have known it was just wishful thinking, especially since it seemed Ennis only sought his friendship.

_"He also hasn't read the story. Can ya blame him fer only seeking yer friendship? Would _you_ be wantin' more if ya hadn't had some a' those Brokeback ideas already stuck in yer head?"_

Jack had to wonder about that. If he hadn't read the story, would he be feeling the same way he did? An image of Ennis entered his mind; tall, lean, muscular, dark brown eyes on fire for him up on the mountain, or at least he thought they had been. Jack sighed. He couldn't tell. He wanted to think he'd feel strongly about Ennis no matter what, but, maybe he wouldn't know _what_ he was feeling if he hadn't read the story. Maybe that's what Ennis was going through?

_"Wishful thinkin' again, Twist. Wishful thinkin'."_

But there was still room to hope.

Anyway, they'd gotten back to Ennis' house a little after one in the morning and Jack still hadn't come down from his mountain buzz, removed Ennis be damned. He was rearing to go, wasn't ready for the night to end. He couldn't even _imagine_ sleeping. But Ennis had had other ideas. He'd pretty much gone straight to his bedroom, barely muttering a 'see ya in the morning' as he passed. Jack had been baffled, and more than a little disappointed.

He'd taken up his usual residence on Ennis' couch and sat staring at a blank TV screen. He'd finally spotted the remote and turned the television on. He found a channel he could bare, Nick at Night was showing some old reruns of the Dick Van Dyke show, but the TV was more for some light and soft background noise. He'd sat and fiddled around with his hands for hours, not sure what to do, but not being able to go to sleep.

For a brief moment he'd considered walking into Ennis' bedroom and…well, he wasn't sure what then. But as stated that had been a _brief_ thought. He could never do that, not without getting a surprised punch to the face. He'd started wishing that they'd brought some more boos with them so maybe they could've had a drunken grope fest or something, but that hadn't happened either. And a grope fest wasn't really what Jack wanted, no matter how his dick might have felt on the subject. No, Jack wanted it all. He wanted Ennis and everything that came with him, good and bad baggage.

Then, Jack had considered trying to mess around with his truck. Maybe he could go out on the sly and snap a wire or something. But that was a little pathetic, wasn't it? And wouldn't it be a little fishy if the next morning when he was about to leave, he once again couldn't start his truck?

_"Oh gee, Ennis…I don't know what happened! Must jest be my bad luck, or somethin'. Guess I'll have to stay longer than I thought!"_

Jack laughed bitterly. No, he was leaving tomorrow, no matter how much it pained him to do so. He was leaving and he was going to forget about Ennis and about how he made him feel and about the electricity that jumped between them whenever they touched. He didn't slept a wink that night.

The next morning he was up and packed before Ennis came out of his room a little after five. Jack was disappointed to see that Ennis' mood hadn't changed, still had his defenses up, still had a closed expression and a clenched jaw.

He'd offered to make some coffee, but Jack hadn't wanted to prolong the experience, so he'd declined and instead headed outside to pack up his truck. Not like he had a lot to pack, just one duffel bag. One duffel bag, and a whole lot of troubles.

Ennis had followed him outside, but had mainly stood on the drive, distancing himself from Jack. He could feel his eyes on him, though, heavy like a weight on his back. He'd finally gotten the nerve to say goodbye, to get it over with and put himself out of his misery. All the while Ennis had been unreadable; Jack had no idea what he was thinking or feeling. Maybe he was actually happy to see him go. Jack thought not, but from the blank expression he was giving him, he couldn't be sure.

For a minute Jack had been about to tell Ennis the truth. He hadn't wanted to, hadn't planned on it, was chicken really, but he was willing to do anything to get _some_ sort of reaction from Ennis. It was like they were simply saying 'see ya' after a day of paling around, like they would see each other at the office the next day. But that was so far from how he'd felt it was almost funny. Jack had never been good at masking his emotions; he'd tried this time, tried to return Ennis' steely glances with his own, but couldn't do it. What he was feeling couldn't be covered that easily.

He'd about given up and resigned to heading back to his truck when Ennis had grabbed him. It came out of nowhere, and it betrayed everything Ennis had desperately been trying to cover. Jack felt his heart swell, felt it break a little more, felt hot tears reach his eyes. He couldn't do anything but grasp Ennis as tight and mutter, "goddamn." It was the only word that seemed to sum up what he was experiencing. The rush of having Ennis' arms around him, holding him tighter than he'd ever been held, nearly crushing the air out of him, but Jack didn't care, only wanted the embrace to go on and on until he either died from pleasure or from collapsed lungs.

But then Ennis had gone stony again and had released him. His defenses were back up in the blink of an eye. But it was too late; he'd already given the game away. That gesture had been enough for Jack, given him just the right amount of hope. Given him enough of a spark to get the gears and bolts to start turning and cranking out more possibilities.

His trip driving from Riverton had been a dull one. For the first hour, he hadn't done much thinking at all, just kept his eyes on the road and listened to the wind howl past his closed windows. He had the radio turned off, didn't want to listen to music or have any distractions, just wanted quiet and to forget where he was heading, and who he was leaving.

It wasn't until he'd pulled over at a truck stop diner for breakfast around seven, that he'd started to think again, started thinking hard and long about what he was doing.

He was sitting towards the back of the diner in a booth, drinking some fairly decent coffee, and eating some less than decent pancakes, looking out the smudged window at the trucks lining the parking lot, when the story of Brokeback Mountain, and his reasons for coming to Wyoming hit him with a vengeance. He'd come to find out if Ennis was a real person, which had been accomplished, but he'd also come to find out all he could about the story, see if Ennis knew anything, see what he thought about it, have a discussion about it, maybe come up with a plan of action.

Well that had been easier said than done. Of course, planning it all out, he hadn't expected to be immediately attracted to Ennis and then to become good friends with him. And to top it all off, he'd fallen in love with the man. He admitted that now, hadn't been sure what he'd been feeling at first, but now was positive. He'd fallen head over heels for Ennis Del Mar in a matter of days and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. Jack laughed at that. Life sure was a bitch. It hit forcefully when least expected, and grabbed you by the balls.

So in lieu of his feelings, he'd found it impossible to tell Ennis about the book. But, in the florescent light and white washed walls of Norma Jean's Family Diner, it hadn't seemed like a good enough reason. He should have been honest with him, he should have told him the truth no matter how hard it may have been, talked it over with him nice and easy. It was too late now, and it had been too long. Jack had lied to him, told him he came for different reasons that he had, and it was all fucked up.

Jack could have been content to leave it at that, to go back home to Childress and have fond memories of his time spent in Riverton with Ennis Del Mar, keep them stored in his mind if he ever needed a fantasy to jerk off to. But the idea didn't settle well with him, it wouldn't heel. No, guilt was bucking around inside Jack's head like a wild bronc, and try as he may, he couldn't get it to stop. Jack had paid for his food and then got back on the road, trekking back to Texas and deeper into denial.

It had taken two more hours for it to finally sucker punch him.

_"Jack Twist, yer being a pussy. Turn yer truck around n' drive back ta Riverton. You've only driven a few hours; ya can make it back 'fore Ennis gets home from work."_

He hesitated for a couple more miles and then Jack turned off Interstate 25 before he officially got to Denver and then got back on, going north this time, heading back to Wyoming, and Ennis. He looked at the clock on his radio. It was after ten o'clock. He could make it back sometime around one or two if he put the pedal to the medal.

Jack sped up, merging into the left lane. His leg was shaking and he was nervously chewing on his bottom lip.

_"I'm really gonna do this. I'm really gonna tell him. God help me, I'm gonna tell him the truth."_

Jack's F-150 flew down the open road, a blur of black and silver against the blue sky over the plains. He wasn't sure what lay ahead, but he felt fairly positive, that whatever happened, he'd be ready for it.

* * *

Ennis had just sat down to take his lunch break. He was in his usual spot, under a large oak tree a distance from the picnic tables. He liked the distance and the solitude that came with it because he never had much to say to the rest of the hands anyway, a fact that was especially true today. Ennis wanted nothing more than to just sit and be alone. He didn't want to think about work, he didn't want to think about being social, and most of all, he didn't want to think about being alone when he got home later that day.

It was silly really. Ennis had been alone for the better part of his 56 years, and he'd thought he'd gotten used to it. Even the time when he'd been with his girls and Alma, his loneliness had not let him be. He'd been born alone it seemed, it had only made worse when his parents died, and when his sister had moved off and when his brother K.E. had gotten married and Ennis had had to start working jobs out on isolated ranches. So it had been such a part of his life that he'd never really noticed it was there—until he met Jack Twist.

Jack had shown him what companionship meant, and now that he was gone, well, now Ennis could feel the hollowness of his life, could feel it like a knife in his side. Ennis swallowed.

_"Said I wasn't gonna think 'bout Jack. Somehow me tryin' not ta think on him got me right back around ta doin' jest that."_

Ennis figured it would be a long while before he could _stop_ thinking about Jack, no matter how hard he tried. He leaned against the tree, relaxed his back and stretched his legs out in front of him, then unwrapped his roast beef sandwich from a diner down the street. Usually, (as in days when one of the other hands' wives didn't bring something for the fellas to eat) one of Jeremy Graham's teenaged daughters would come around and take a lunch order from all the workers, if they hadn't brought their own lunch. She'd collect their money and go pick up their food. Ennis usually tried to bring his lunch, he didn't like having to fork over four or five dollars everyday for some luke warm fast food, but lately he'd been preoccupied in the mornings.

The sandwich was okay that day, though. It wasn't the best thing he'd ever tasted, but it sufficed and Ennis ate it quickly, wanting to spend the majority of his lunch break just relaxing. He crumpled the wrapper it had come in and sipped ice tea from the paper "to go" cup that had been given to him. He took his hat off and laid it on top of his jean jacket, tossed aside in the grass next to him. He was sitting facing north that day; he'd deliberately placed himself so that his back was to the rest of the workers. Facing north he had a view of the Bighorns. He smiled. The bighorns made him think of Sunday when he'd taken Jack out riding in the northern fields of the Owl Creek Ranch. That made him think of taking Jack to Brokeback Mountain.

_"Brokeback…"_

Ennis remembered the book he'd brought with him. He'd wanted to look through it on his lunch break.

_"Well, time's a wastin'."_

He sat up a little so he could reach his jacket and fished around in on of the pockets, pulled out the paperback, then found his reading glasses in another pocket. He leaned back again, made himself completely comfortable, and then flipped the book open. Once again it landed on the title page. Ennis ran his thumb over the words and then turned the page.

Small words in black print assaulted his vision and Ennis had to squint even with his glasses on. He'd never been much of a reader, never had time, and wasn't encouraged to do so with his poor eyesight. It never troubled him too much; the kind of work he did didn't require much reading. There were times when he certainly regretted not finishing school though.

Ennis tossed that thought aside.

"_Worries for some other time." _

He tried pulling the book farther away from him, found that made it clear and settled himself to read.

* * *

Grady Stoutamire watched Ennis Del Mar from a fence that lined the large west meadow where most of the steer grazed during the summer. He watched him make his way past the stables and the main equipment barn towards his truck. He looked down at his watch; it was only fifteen minutes past twelve, lunch had just ended. He did a double take as Ennis got into his old pick up and drove away. What the hell was he doing?

Stoutamire rode over to where Art Granger was mending a part of the western fence. Art looked up when he heard him stop. He wiped some sweat from under the brim of his straw hat with the back of one gloved hand.

"Hey there boss. What's up?"

Stoutamire frowned, looked back in the direction where Ennis had just left and then turned back to Art.

"Granger, did Del Mar tell ya he was goin' some where?"

Art looked past Stoutamire towards the area he and Ennis usually parked.

"Uh, no. Didn't know he'd gone anywhere."

"Well he just got in his truck and drove away."

Art shrugged. "Gee, boss. S'not like Ennis. Don't think he's ever left work early a day in his life."

Stoutamire frowned harder and tightened his grip on the reigns.

"I know. Somethin' must be wrong. He didn't say nothin' ta ya?"

Art shook his head. "Nope. I haven't spoken ta him all day. I think Dean had a word with him though. There he is, hey Dean!"

A short young man with light blonde hair came walking out of the stables with a pitchfork in his hands. He sauntered over to where Art and Stoutamire were.

"Hey, Art. Hey there, boss. What d'ya need?"

"Didn't ya talk ta Ennis just a few minutes ago? Thought I saw you two talkin' or somethin'."

Art took a handkerchief out from the front pocket of his overalls and wiped more sweat from his face. Dean dug the pitchfork in to the ground and leaned on its handle.

"Yeah I did. Though I wouldn't call it talkin'. I asked him where he was goin' in such a hurry. He said it weren't none a' my business and told me ta fuck off. Don't think I've ever seen him so angry. Looked bought ready ta kill anything that got in his way. I'm lucky I got out alive."

Stoutamire's horse snorted and kicked a little, impatient with all the standing around.

"What coulda happened between lunch n' now that coulda gotten him so riled up?"

Art was looking back up at Stoutamire, waiting for some insight on the usually level headed man.

"I have no idea. Musta been somethin' aweful. Ennis can usually control himself. Well, thanks boys. Get on back ta work. We'll jest have ta make due without him fer the rest a' the day."

The two men nodded and then Stoutamire headed back to the stables to put Bonnie, his mare, back in her stall. He was going to take his lunch break and do a little work, make a few calls in his office. Maybe when he'd finished he'd give Ennis a ring at his house, see what was what.

He dismounted Bonnie and handed the reigns to Steve, one of the groomsmen. He patted her on the side and then headed back in the direction of his office across from the Grahams personal horse stable.

He walked in a fog; he was baffled as to what would have gotten Ennis so worked up. Grady Stoutamire had been working with Ennis for quite a while, had known him for even longer, and had only seen him get really angry once. It had been several years before, when they'd been working at the Bucking S. Cattle Ranch, and one of the stable boys had left a stall open during the night and a prize horse had gotten out. It had taken them all day to find it, and they'd had to capture it—one night out in the plains had made it nearly wild again. Ennis had gotten so mad he'd been about to kick the boy's ass, severely. Stoutamire had stopped him before they'd actually gotten around to blows. But that was the only time. Ennis was usually pretty level headed. Stoutamire had heard stories about when he was younger, how he'd been a bit of a loose canon, but since he'd known him, he'd had no trouble. It seemed Ennis Del Mar had lost his quick temper since he'd gotten older.

Stoutamire arrived at the door of his office and walked in, letting out a sigh of relief at the feel of the air conditioning. He saw that there were a few messages on his answering machine, and he hit the play button before heading over to his desk to sit down and relax. There was a message from his wife and from Jeremy Grahams, who was out of town. He stretched back in his chair and kicked his feet up. His wife, Sandy, wanted him to bring some beef home for dinner. Jeremy wanted them to take some of the calves out to auction the next week, even though it was still early, and they usually waited until they were a little bit older before they sold them.

He rubbed at his eyes and sighed. If it wasn't one thing it was another. There would be a lot of work to do, a lot of things to arrange, if they were going to be ready to take the calves to auction the following week. He needed Ennis there. He couldn't have him getting crazy and leaving work in the middle of the day.

Stoutamire sat up in his chair and stared at the closed door of his office. He didn't know what was wrong with Ennis, but he knew that he didn't like it.

* * *

Jack turned his F-150 down the familiar street where Ennis lived. He looked at his clock: 2:07. Jack smiled. He'd been fast, traveled a little over 200 miles in under four hours. Of course he hadn't stopped for food on the way back. Eating was the last thing on his mind at the moment. He was practically jumping out of his seat with anxiety. He was nervous as hell, wasn't surprised about that, but he was also a little excited, excited about clearing the air, about letting Ennis know that there was something crazy going on beyond their control. The thought made Jack's spine tingle a little, chills erupted over his back and shoulder.

He had Ennis' house in his sights. He pulled his truck up to the curb. Ennis wouldn't be home for another three and a half hours, but Jack was going to wait for him. He thought about waiting outside, but then decided it would be more of a surprise if he let himself in (Ennis had shown him where he kept the spare key under a mat after the first night he'd stayed there.)

Jack turned the ignition to his truck off, hopped out, and walked up the drive to go through the back yard and reach the side door. At the last minute, he decided to cut across the front lawn since it was a shorter walk to the side he needed. Screw walking around the other way, past the carport, and through the backyard. He got to the door and lifted up the mat, struggled for a minute getting the key off the ground in his excitement, but finally had it in his hand. He hesitated for a minute, considering once again what he was doing, and then shoved any negative thoughts aside. This wasn't going to be the first time he'd done something crazy in the past couple of weeks.

Jack smiled again, took in a deep breath, put the key in the keyhole, and stepped through Ennis' door. He walked into the kitchen that he'd come to know so well, let the sight soak in like refreshing mountain air, and placed the key on the kitchen counter. He stood there in the kitchen for a minute, twiddling his thumbs, then remembered his need to take a piss and headed to the bathroom. That done, he figured he could watch TV until Ennis got home, so he strolled into the living room, feeling lighter than he had in years, satisfied with his decision to finally get over his stupid hang ups and tell Ennis the truth.

When he reached the living room, he immediately stopped dead in his tracks. Ennis was sitting on the couch, hat on his head, pulled low over his eyes, his hands clasped between his knees. It appeared he was looking down at the floor.

_"What the fuck?"_

Jack certainly hadn't expected this. He smiled a little at the sight of Ennis, but wasn't relieved at his silent, troubled appearance. Jack was slightly worried; he hadn't been expecting to confront Ennis the minute he walked into his house.

_"Gonna have ta change my plans. I was hopin' fer a little time ta think it over some more."_

Ennis was silent; it was like he hadn't even noticed Jack was there, which brought up another question: why hadn't he said anything when he heard him come in the house? Last time he'd thought Jack was a burglar and had nearly killed him. This time there had been nothing, even though Jack had been in the house for a few minutes and had even gone to the bathroom. All that and not a peep. It concerned Jack.

"Ennis. What're ya doin' home from work?"

"What're _you_ doin' _here_?" He kept his eyes to the ground.

Jack stepped back because of Ennis' hostile tone. What had gotten into him?

"I, uh, came back jest a few minutes ago. I turned around after I'd driven fer a while."

"Right. I saw yer truck pull up next ta the curb. Heard ya come in, heard ya use the bathroom, but that don't explain _why_ ya came."

Jack was getting pissed off. Shouldn't Ennis be happy to see him? He didn't need to give him the 3rd degree. He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Jesus, Ennis. What's wrong with you? Thought ya'd be happy ta see me."

Jack thought he saw Ennis chuckle from the way his shoulders moved up and down slightly, but he couldn't be sure because his manner was far from jovial. Finally he looked up and Jack could see his eyes. They were on fire once again, but it didn't look like a good thing this time.

"Ya thought I'd be happy ta see you." His tone was dry, light, and quiet. Jack wasn't sure what was going on.

"That's funny Jack, yer a real kidder, real funny guy. Always full a' stories and shit. Speakin' a' stories, what the hell is this?"

He picked something up off the couch and held it raised in his left hand. Jack drew in a deep breath. He knew what it was, and all at once he knew what was wrong.

"Oh shit."

"Oh shit, s'right."

Jack froze. This was certainly not what he'd expected. He felt like he was suddenly in a very dangerous situation.

_"You ASSHOLE! You fergot the book! How could you?"_

Jack suddenly remembered his fit of anger the day before, remembered throwing the book across the room at the front window. He'd forgotten all about it. In his despair over leaving, he'd left it where it had fallen. He could have kicked himself. No that wasn't drastic enough, the best way of putting it would be that at that moment, Jack Twist wanted more than anything else to run into the street and get hit by a truck.

Ennis was waiting patiently for more explanation but Jack's mouth had gone dry and all the words he'd planned on using to explain the situation had flown out the window. Ennis cocked his head to the side.

"What's wrong Jack? Cat got yer tongue? Or did ya jest ferget what this is? Here let me give ya a little reminder."

Ennis flipped through the pages. He found what he was looking for and brought the book close to his face to read.

" 'Ennis woke in red dawn with his pants around his knees, a top-grade headache, and Jack butted against him; without saying anything about it both knew how it would go for the rest of the summer, sheep be damned.'"

He flipped a little more.

"Oh and here's a classic, can't ferget 'bout this one. 'Ennis ran full-throttle on all roads whether fence mending or money spending, and he wanted none of it when Jack seized his left hand and brought it to his erect cock. Ennis jerked his hand away as though he'd touched fire,'"

"Ennis, stop it."

"Almost finished, haven't gotten ta the good part yet. 'Got to his knees, unbuckled his belt, shoved his pants down, hauled Jack onto all fours and, with the help of clear slick and a little spit, entered him,'" Ennis laughed bitterly. " 'Nothing he'd done before, but no instruction manual needed.'"

He was silent again, then turned to a page towards the end of the book.

"Here's one a' my favorites. 'I got a say this to you one time, Jack, and I ain't foolin. What I don't know,' said Ennis, 'all them things I don't know could get you killed if I should come to know them.'"

Jack was speechless. Ennis had put the book down and was looking at Jack again.

"So tell me Jack, what the fuck is this? What the fuck?"

He threw the book roughly to the ground and stood, facing Jack, chest heaving with anger. Jack looked away, couldn't bring himself to meet Ennis' eyes.

"I don't know."

"How can't ya know? It's yers ain't it?"

Jack felt a steel ball form in his stomach and he looked at Ennis. "I told ya I don't know. I don't know where it came from, I…"

"You are so full a' shit!" Ennis turned and walked to the window next to the couch, looked outside at the side of his lawn.

"You lied. It's all been a big bag a' bull shit, comin' from you, hasn't it? Who are you? How did ya get that story? Did ya write it? How did ya get yer information?"

He took a few steps back in his direction.

"Are you some sort a' stalker? Have ya been watchin' me? Some queer boy wanting ta come n' fulfill some sick fantasy?"

Jack didn't know what to say. This was a nightmare. He was going to wake up at any second, and it would still be that morning, and he'd remember to take the book with him, and none of this would happen.

"Speak up, Twist!" Ennis shoved him rough on the shoulder.

"I want some fuckin' answers, so ya better have some or yer gonna get yer face smashed inta the fuckin' ground."

He pushed Jack again, and this time Jack pushed back. He was confused, and helpless but he was damned if he was going to let Ennis push him around like some bully.

"Back the hell off, Ennis."

"Fuck you."

That's all it took for Jack to charge at the man standing in front of him. He punched him in the mouth and then tried to get his arm around his neck to get him in a headlock. He was seething, his vision had gone red, and he wasn't even sure why. He wasn't in the right frame of mind to ponder where all his anger was coming from at the moment.

Ennis wasn't having it though, and he grabbed Jack around his shoulders, managed to turn him around in a backwards neck lock, and then threw him to the floor, slamming his weight into his back and digging Jack's face into the carpet. Jack kicked and bucked wildly underneath him and finally managed to flip himself over. They were face to face now, and he had his hands wrapped around Ennis' neck, trying to get him off. Ennis punched Jack on the side of his face, and he yelled out and kneed Ennis in the balls. Ennis yelped and fell backwards, Jack clutched at his face with his hand, tears from the force of the blow clouding his vision.

After a few minutes, the pain died down to where it was bearable and he sat up on his elbows. Ennis was sitting with his back against the front door, breathing heavily, looking at Jack. Jack couldn't read his expression, but it wasn't the most forgiving one he'd ever seen. He sucked in a breath, his words finally back, his tongue loosened.

"Okay, ya want answers? I'll tell ya all I know, but I don't want ta fight with ya no more."

"Yer the one that started it."

"Shut the fuck up, Ennis. _You_ started pushin' me 'round like I was a fuckin' rag doll. Jesus, now jest listen fer a minute, would ya?"

Ennis clenched his jaw and looked away. Jack sighed.

"All right. Though, I have ta tell ya, I don't know much."

He sat up all the way and pressed a gentle hand to the bruise already forming near his eye. He hissed a little at how tender it was, then continued.

He told Ennis everything he knew. He told him how he'd been out at the Wal-Mart looking for a book to buy his granddaughter Eliza, and how he'd decided to stop and pick something up for himself, and there the book had sat. He told him how he took it home and decided to read it before going to the dinner meeting with his wife and the McGuire Tractor and Farming people. He told him how he'd flipped through it, read one other story and then came to the last one. He told him how he'd nearly had a heart attack by the time he'd finished the story. Jack explained how the story had begun to plague him, how he couldn't stop thinking about it, and how he'd finally called Annie Proulx's agent.

"Guess I couldn't have expected much. The story sounds so crazy, I barely believe it myself."

So then he told Ennis about his conclusion that if the story had been true for him, there may actually be an Ennis Del Mar out there some where. He told him how he'd gone to the library with his granddaughter and had looked up Ennis' number (of course leaving out the part where he jerked off to a fantasy of him).

"I tried calling yer number on a payphone, but it was disconnected. So, still none a' my question were answered."  
Ennis was looking at the ground. His face had relaxed slightly, but his body was still tense. He was listening to Jack intently.

Jack finally told him how his curiosity had gotten the better of him and he'd decided to come to find him in Riverton. He recounted how along the way his truck had started having trouble, and he'd taken it as a bad omen, though he didn't really believe in things like that.

"I got ta yer house and ya weren't there. After all that, and ya weren't there. I can't tell ya how stupid I felt; I was more pissed at myself than I think I've ever been, until maybe now…" Jack sighed.

"Anyway, that's when I decided ta go ta the nearest bar and get as drunk as possible. And the rest ya know."

Ennis was silent for a minute, then finally spoke without looking up.

"Did ya know it was me in the bar?"

"No. I had no idea. Honest ta God. Don't know how I could've, never seeing you before in my life. Nearly fainted when ya told me yer name."

Ennis finally raised his eyes and met Jacks. They weren't angry anymore, but they weren't happy either.

"Why did ya lie? Why didn't ya tell me?"

Jack flinched and felt his chest tighten. He knew it would come to this, though h'd hoped to God that it wouldn't.

"Ennis, I don't know. I…didn't expect ta become yer friend. I didn't expect ta run inta ya by accident. I didn't expect my truck ta die and leave me sleepin' on yer living room couch."

Ennis wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grimaced. He stood slowly.

"Do ya know how fuckin' weird and unbelieveable all this sounds?"

Jack stood too, hesitant, guarded. "Yeah, I know. It's weird. It's crazy. It's like the fuckin' twilight zone."

Ennis shook his head. "I don't know why ya came here. Don't know what ya expected."

Jack was taken aback. "I didn't expect _anythin'_. I just wanted some answers. I wanted ta know if you existed."

Ennis shook his head again and his breathing became heavy. He paced around the room.

"No. No. You shoulda jest let sleepin' dogs lie. Ya jest went n' fucked things up more."

Jack felt his temper heat up again. "Well thanks fer rubbin' it in my face, Ennis." He raised his voice. "I know I messed up. I don't need ya tellin' me."

Ennis stopped his pacing and looked Jack straight in the eye.

"I want ya outta here."

Jack's anger drained from his body. _What?_

"Ennis…"

"No. Don't say anythin' else. Ya done enough talkin' fer one after noon." He looked at his watch.

"I gotta take a shower. Promised Junior I'd go ta Curt's birthday dinner tonight. I want ya outta my house by the time I get done."

Ennis walked past Jack towards the hallway and the bathroom. Jack stood helplessly where he was. Ennis stopped and turned back in his direction for a second. Jack felt his eyes and turned to meet his gaze.

"I'm sorry it all happened this way, Ennis. I didn't want this ta get so messed up."

Ennis' eyes were dark and unreadeable. He frowned, not giving Jack any slack, not showing any sign of understanding, of forgiveness.

"I'm sorry too. Sorry I ever met you. Sorry I took ya up ta Brokeback."

He hesitated a moment longer then turned away and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door. Jack heard him lock it behind him.


	11. Chapter 11

Ennis turned off the shower, pulled the vinyl curtain back and stepped out on to the gray bathmat. He grabbed his towel from the rack near the door, dried off, then wrapped the towel around his waist and wiped the condensation from the mirror so he could see. He stopped when he caught sight of his reflection. He had dark bags under his eyes from no sleep, and his lip was busted, swollen, and still bleeding slightly. He looked like shit.

_"Fuckin' bastard. He got me good."_

Ennis felt anger start to rise and he shoved any thoughts of the confrontation he'd had with Jack Twist away. He didn't want to think about him, or his fucking story, or the way he made him laugh, or the way it felt when he had him wrapped in his arms.

Ennis picked up his toothbrush, squeezed some Crest on its head, then slammed the tube of toothpaste on the counter. That was that, he was pulling that thought out of his head by the roots before it developed. He wasn't going to let himself start having any queer thoughts just because he'd read that book, leave that to Jack. He stuck the toothbrush in his mouth and began to move it around vigorously, trying to get the bad taste out of his mouth that couldn't seem to go away.

That day had been a nightmare from the moment he'd woken up. First facing Jack leaving, facing the horrible reality of being alone again, and then to top it all off he'd found the book; that stupid book that had ruined everything. He wished he'd never found it, or especially wished he'd never read it. What had made him do that anyway? He wasn't a reader, and he'd never been so why had he felt the need flip through its pages and let the story of Brokeback Mountain weave its way through him? He would have rested easier had he not, and he preferred missing Jack to hating him.

Ennis spit the toothpaste into the sink. He rinsed his mouth and then put a little shaving cream into his palm. He lathered it over his face and picked up his razor, started to scrape it against the side of his face and slowly over his chin, being extremely careful when he got around to his swollen lip. His could feel his temper trying to return, trying to bust through the door he'd hid it behind, at the tender pain he felt around his lip as he tried to shave, and he finished as quickly as possible so it couldn't have the chance to break loose and run free. He rinsed the rest of the shaving cream off his face and gave himself one more look in the mirror. He turned to the door and stopped.

He couldn't open it. What if Jack was still standing out there?

_"I'll kick his ass if he is. Stupid, fuckin'…"_

Ennis took a deep breath, once again trying to control his rage; it wouldn't do him any good right now, anyway. Controlling his anger had become a common past time with Ennis. He'd always had a bad temper, had never had the desire or the will to control it when he was younger, but had learned through having children, that he couldn't just fly off the handle whenever he chose. It was harder to keep his anger contained than to let it erupt wherever on whomever, and he found he didn't mind the challenge. It felt good to have control over himself. This time though, well, this time it had taken all he had not to rip Jack's head off.

Ennis shook his head and grabbed the doorknob in his fist. The last thing he wanted was to see Jack again, especially at that particular moment. He cursed himself for his fear. Ennis ran 'full-throttle on all roads whether fence mending or money spending', after all.

He tried the door, remembered he'd locked it, then quickly fiddled with the latch, opened the door, and stepped into the hallway. He walked straight into his bedroom, didn't look around, not wanting to see Jack if he was still standing there, not wanting to see his empty living room if he wasn't. He slammed the door behind him, thought twice and then also locked his bedroom door. He wandered over to the bed and sat on the edge, letting his face fall into his hands.

He sat there, elbows propped on his bare legs, hands supporting his head on either side of his face, staring at the carpet below his feet, angry tears welling in his eyes. He blinked a few times, cursed his stupid allergies, then finally sat up and wiped his face with the back of his hand.

His anger was eating him up. He wanted to punch a hole in the wall, he wanted to push over his chest of drawers, he wanted to rip up his sheets and flip over his mattress, and collapse in the middle of the room, so that chaos reigned outside as well as in. He was so angry, but…it was something else too. It was disappointment, and betrayal, and…

"_Jack Fuckin' Twist. You sonofabitch, you sonofabitch."_

He hated him. No that wasn't true, he wanted to hate him.

"Shit. Fuck it. Fuck!"

He stood up and kicked the side of his bed, moving it to the right about a foot. He didn't have time to sit around moping and feeling sorry for himself. Even if he did have the time, he wouldn't have, because Ennis couldn't think about it. He was too heated and too tired.

Ennis walked into his closet and started pulling clothes off random hangers, hoping to find something he could wear to Curt's birthday dinner.

* * *

Ennis walked out of his bedroom cautiously. He'd thrown some clothes together that weren't dirty and didn't make him look like he was going to work.

He turned slowly and faced the kitchen. No Jack Twist. He took a few more steps until he was standing in front of the little kitchen table and then turned to face the living room. It was empty, empty as it had been before, as if Jack had never been there at all. Ennis entered the living room and looked around. It appeared they hadn't disturbed anything with their fighting, hadn't knocked anything over or broken any furniture.

He stood next to the couch and stared at it. Its pillows were a little flattened and askew. He stood there and let the quiet, the emptiness soak into him.

_"Damnit, Jack. Damnit. Why'd this have to happen?"_

He kept his eyes locked on the lone couch for a minute longer and then gave the room one more look around. His eye caught something unfamiliar, something that hadn't been there before, on top of the small table next to his recliner. He took a step closer to the table, and there was the book: Close Range. Jack must have picked it up from where Ennis had thrown it on the ground and left it there for him.

Ennis picked it up, hesitantly, as though it may burn him if he wasn't careful. He flipped it over in his hands like he'd done over and over again, before Jack had come back, over and over as he'd sat there confused as hell. The anger hadn't come with Jack's return, mostly because Ennis' first reaction to the sight of the familiar Ford pulling up to the curb out side his house had been excitement. He could have kicked himself.

Suddenly the phone was ringing and his heart jumped up in his throat, his first thought being that it was Jack again. Ennis, despite his anger and despite how he tried to talk himself out of it, hoped it _was_ Jack, hoped he could hear his voice one more time, one more time so he could try and figure him out, try and decided whether to trust or to shun. Maybe one more time and then he could forget all about him.

Ennis went to where the phone hung on the wall in the kitchen and answered it, anxious and a little nervous to hear the all too familiar friendly voice.

"Hello, Ennis?"

He was thrown off for a minute, because it definitely wasn't who he thought it was going to be. He didn't recognize the voice at all.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

"Ennis, it's Grady."

Suddenly Ennis knew why he hadn't recognized the voice; he'd never heard him call him by his first name before, it was always "Del Mar" and "Stoutamire". Blood rushed to his face because all at once he understood what the call was about. He felt his stomach drop a little, and for about the fifth time that day felt like he wanted to kick his own ass. He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid and reckless at work.

"Uh, hello there, sir." He didn't know what else to say. "Is…is there sometin' ya need?"

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"Well, I was jest wonderin' why ya left work in the middle a' the day, today."

Ennis closed his eyes. When it rained it poured.

"Yeah, I, uh…had some bad news."

"Nothin' too bad was it?" Ennis thought he might have heard some concern in Stoutamire's voice.

"No, sir, I just…No, nothin' too bad."

"Well would be okay if I asked what happened?"

Ennis bit his lip then immediately regretted it. Pain from his swollen bottom lip rushed through his body. He sucked in a deep breath and held the phone away from him for a second.

"Ennis? Ennis? You there?"

He brought the phone back to his mouth. "I'm still here."

Silence again. "So…"

"Actually, I'd rather…it's kind a' personal."

Stoutamire grunted and there was a long awkward silence between them.

"Will ya be needin' time off? Or will ya be back tomorrow?"

"I'll be back tomorrow. I don't need no time off. It was jest today. I'm sorry I didn't say nothin' ta ya."

"Yeah, well the way I heard it ya were about ta kill anythin' that crossed yer path."

Ennis gripped the phone harder. He tried not to let the comment get to him, tried to keep his cool, but was positive that if he asked him one more question he'd blow his top. He didn't feel much like explaining himself anymore.

"Ennis, I've gotta go now. The wife's wantin' me ta bring home some dinner. I jest wanted ta make sure ya were okay. I don't like seein' ya so upset."

Ennis was slightly confused, but a little relieved that the call had mainly been about concern.

"Well, I'll be fine. Jest need a little time ta myself, s'all."

Apparently Stoutamire took the hint. "All right. Well, I'll talk ta ya tomorrow. See ya, Del Mar."

Ennis didn't bother saying good-bye and simply hung up the phone. He stood in his kitchen in a daze and decided he needed a drink, a stiff drink. He walked over to one of the lower cabinets where he kept his hard liquor. He pulled out a half empty bottle of Jim Beam Rye Whiskey and went back to the table to sit down.

He tried not to drink too much these days. Junior was always getting on his back about it, and if that wasn't enough, whenever Francine was in town, she'd start preaching to Ennis about how he should take care of himself more and eat more 'organic' foods, how he should stop 'poisoning' his body with liquor and cigarettes and fat. He frowned at the thought, and took a deliberate gulp of whiskey straight from the bottle. The last thing he needed was to be getting hassled by his hippie daughter.

Ennis looked over at the empty seat across from him and remembered the past few nights. He'd been sitting in the same seat he was now, talking and laughing with Jack. He never thought he'd seen the kitchen look so bare. It was bizarre, like something was out of place. The room was eerily quiet too. He couldn't take it.

Ennis stood quickly. He sure as hell wasn't going to sit at that table and stare at Jack's empty seat. No way. He wandered into the living room, whiskey bottle in hand and switched the TV on. He sat on the couch and flipped through the channels until he found a show he didn't mind. He tried to focus on what was going on the TV show, but the whole time his mind kept wandering. He was sitting where Jack had been sleeping for four nights. Ennis remembered the way he'd looked that first morning, laying on his stomach, snoring, mouth open with some drool dripping down his chin, hair mussed. He could just imagine how it would feel to touch his warm skin, to lay an open palm on his chest while it went steadily up and down in his sleep.

Ennis got up from the couch and sat in his recliner.

_"Fuck him. The asshole."_

Ennis was not going to think about Jack. He was not. But before he knew it, his eyes were back on the couch, thinking how wrong it felt to see it vacant. Ennis bit his lips again and cursed out loud. How was it ever going to get better if he kept biting it? He took another swallow of whiskey and liked how it burned when it went down, numbing the pain.

Before he knew it, the show was over, and he had a little more than a buzz going. In his fog he heard the phone ringing again.

_"Damn, sure am popular today."_

He got out of his recliner, careful not to trip on his own feet, and walked, slowly into the kitchen.

_"Who could it be this time?"_

"Hello?" He was able to keep any slur out of his voice, but he couldn't keep from sounding sleepy.

"Daddy? Have you been sleeping? Where are you?"

Ennis shook his head and looked at his watch. 6:30.

"Shee-it." He let his head roll forward and rest against the kitchen wall. He'd forgotten about Junior after he'd started drinking. He couldn't do anything right today.

"Are ya okay? You were supposed ta be here thirty minutes ago. We was all worried about you. You've never been late in yer life!"

Ennis squeezed his eyes shut and cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, darlin'. I'll be there jest as soon's I can."

"All right. You be careful drivin' here now.'

Women and their intuition. "Sure thing. Bye, darlin'."

"Bye, Daddy."

Ennis hung up the phone and turned around, leaned his back full against the wall.

"Get yerself together, Del Mar. Ya gotta go and do this fer Junior. Come on, come on."

He breathed in deep and few times, trying to clear his head. He wished he had time to brew a cup of coffee, but he was late as it was, and didn't want more time to pass than needed. He opened his eyes again. Things were still a little blurry, but his head felt a little better, so he walked into the living room, got his hat and his keys, and left.

* * *

Ennis pulled his Chevrolet carefully up to the curb outside his ex-wife Alma's house. He'd driven thirty the whole way because he hadn't wanted to lose control and get into an accident. Not like it was very far away—the north side of Riverton, only a few miles from Ennis' house, and there was never much traffic in the small town. But it didn't hurt to be careful, especially since what he was doing, driving while still being a little drunk, was pretty damn reckless.

Ennis opened the door of his truck and got out. He stood there for a minute and looked up at the house. It wasn't very big but was larger than his little house, large enough for a family. It was fairly close to the street and had a nice front porch with a swing and a couple of deck chairs set up. It was a pretty sight. Except Ennis didn't get any warm and fuzzy feelings from it.

"Don't know why all these 'family' functions gotta be held at Alma's." He grumbled to himself under his breath.

Not that they could be held at his house, no he wasn't suggesting that. But it seemed like since it was Junior's husband, Curt's, birthday, that it could have been at their house, or hell, they could have gone out to a restaurant. But no, Alma had to have her way, and her way was that family gathering were to be held at "Grandma's house". That's what she liked to call it, even though she only had two grandkids—one from Francine and one from her oldest boy with Bill.

_"Well let her have her little fantasy then."_

Ennis started up the driveway and dreaded every moment of the evening the closer he got. It wasn't that he didn't get along with his ex-wife, well maybe he didn't, but it was more like he just didn't want to deal with her at the moment. He always felt out of place at "family" gatherings. He was the ex-husband, father only to Junior, since she was usually the only one of his daughters present. He felt like Alma tried to exclude him sometimes (figured she would if Junior wasn't adamant that he attend everything), like she wanted to rub her big happy family in his face, like she wanted to say, "look at this, Ennis. Look what we could have had, but didn't because you didn't want it."

The words brought back a familiar passage from the damned book and he frowned. He'd nearly gotten to the point of forgetting his troubles in light of being faced with new and present ones. The story returned to his mind in all its glory, except this time it was in regards to his ex-wife Alma. It sure had portrayed their marriage as a sad existence, which unfortunately wasn't far from the truth.

Ennis stopped when he got to the porch. Stood with his hands in his pockets, deep in thought. There had been _some_ good times, but they'd been lost with the harsh reality of his day-to-day existence and ranch life. He thought about how Alma's character in the story had divorced him not only because of his transgressions, but also because he wasn't the reliable man and husband she needed. Part of that was the truth. There was no time to be a good husband when he was busy working and trying to be a good father in his spare time. Alma had wanted more, had wanted him to be some sort of super man that could get a steady job and take care of his girls and love his wife like she was the only person in the whole world. But it had been too hard for Ennis; he did what he could, and working on ranches was what he knew, was what he was good at. He couldn't be blamed for it being such a demanding job, such a rough lifestyle.

"_You could've tried harder though. If you'd really loved her."_

Ennis had loved her. He thought. But…there was nothing spectacular about their marriage. There was no spark. Ennis just assumed that was the way things went. And he really hadn't _tried_ at all, he hadn't tried to hold their marriage together, hadn't ever gone out of his way to please her. He'd never had the desire to put any effort into it. The sad thing was he hadn't cared much either way, hadn't cared if she'd stayed or if she went, only regretted the divorce because of his girls. His thoughts once again turned to Jack.

"Ennis, are ya jest gonna stand there like a fool, or were ya plannin' on ringin' the doorbell?"

Ennis hadn't noticed that the door had opened and Alma was standing in front of him until he heard her voice. He looked up a little surprised and then took his hat off. She had one hand on her hip. Ennis could see that she'd certainly "been worried" as Junior had put it. More like she'd been pissed off.

"Oh, I'm…uh, I'm sorry that I'm so late."

"Ennis, what happened ta yer face? Ya look terible."

Ennis self-consciously touched his hand to his mouth. He'd forgotten about his busted lip.

"Got…got hit in the face by accident with a fence post. One a' the guys was carryin' it and didn't see me standin' so close."

"Well ya look like ya haven't gotten sleep in a week, either. What've you been doin' over there all alone?"

Ennis cringed at her words, wished she'd just be quiet and let him be.

"I'm fine. I jest didn't get enough sleep last night."

Alma looked skeptical, but didn't say anything else about the matter. She held the door open wider and stepped aside, giving him room to come in. He stepped into the entryway of the house, wiped his boots on the front rug and then allowed Alma to take his hat and jean jacket and hang them on a hook that was near the front door. From where he was standing he could here a few voices, one loudly singing and then another, the voice of a child, screaming in delight. Ennis knew that it was most likely Alma's youngest son, Harold playing with her older son, Will's toddler. He squinted a little at the noise, knew it would be louder once he actually got into the living room, and already felt a headache coming on. He regretted promising Junior he'd come for the hundredth time that day.

Ennis looked down suddenly and noticed that Alma was looking at him expectantly. He took a good look at the woman that once had shared his bed. She was small and fragile looking, had been quiet and sweet as a young woman, but had become hardened, at least with him, as she'd gotten older. Her face was more worn, and she had a few more lines than when he'd first met her, but her hair was still the same bright auburn that he had liked to run his fingers through when they'd be on the verge of falling asleep after having sex. She stood on one hip and tilted her head, frown line now even more pronounced, still obviously upset that he was late.

"Well, I don't see a present in yer hand, so I'm assumin' ya didn't bring one."

Ennis raised his eyebrows, then swallowed. He seemed to have too much saliva in his mouth.

"Was I s'posed ta bring one?"

Alma sniffed. "Well, what did ya think? This is a birthday party, ya bring presents ta birthday parties."

Ennis straightened and clenched his jaw. The last thing he needed was Alma scolding him like he was a child. She seemed to notice he'd raised his defenses and her face softened a little.

"Ennis, I'm sorry." She sighed. "I don't mean ta be like this. It's been a long day, s'all and I've run out a' patience."

Ennis didn't say anything, just ducked his head a little to show her he'd heard. She walked ahead, leading him into the living room where the rest of the "family" was gathered. Junior and Curt were sitting on the main sofa, and Bill was standing near a high back chair, showing another woman, who Ennis thought he remembered was Will's wife Cheryl, pictures from a photo album. As Ennis suspected, Alma's younger son, Harold was playing with Will's young boy on the living room floor. The boy was squealing at something or other and kept running back and forth between Harold sitting on the floor, and Will standing next to the couch with a beer in his hands. It was a perfect family picture, a picture that had no room for Ennis. He thought he'd never felt so alone.

Junior stood when she saw him and walked over him, concern written all over her face.

"Daddy what happened? Are you okay?"

She raised her hand to Ennis' lip, and he jerked his head away and grabbed her hand in his own. All eyes were on Ennis. He hated how he felt uncomfortable under their scrutiny. Hated how he felt like his busted lip might as well be a flashing sign shouting his bizarre trouble to the world. For some reason he couldn't explain, he felt like everyone in the room knew about Jack Twist, knew about the story, knew what the story said about him. He swallowed his paranoia and looked away from all the prying eyes into the dark eyes of his daughter.

"I'm fine, Junior. Jest had a little bit a trouble today at work."

"Nothing too bad, right?"

"Nope."

Curt rose and made his way to Ennis. Ennis reluctantly stuck out his hand for a fast, firm, shake from his son-in-law.

"Thank's fer coming, sir. I do appreciate it, and I know Junior does."

Ennis always found it slightly odd hearing Curt use his daughter's nickname. But like she'd told Jack, everyone called her Junior there days, everyone accept her mama.

"Happy Birthday, son. How many years is it?"

Curt smiled self-consciously. "Thirty-eight, sir. I'm 'fraid I'm getting' up there."

Ennis smirked. "Jest wait till yer my age. Then tell me 'bout getting' up there."

Junior laughed, but there wasn't any light in her eyes. They were full of worry still. She took a step closer to her dad.

"Daddy, I'm glad yer here. I wouldn't let 'em start dinner without ya."

"Speaking of which, can we eat now, Alma?" Bill broke the silence in the room, eager to draw the attention away from Ennis.

Alma stepped forward. "Yes we may. We have to soon anyway, the food's gettin' cold."

She gave Ennis a look and then headed into the kitchen. Everyone stood and started milling in. Ennis felt invisible, not hearing a word from anyone of the family members, except a quick, quiet 'Hey there, Ennis' from Bill. Junior stayed by Ennis' side the whole time, even after Curt had gone into the dining room. She turned her concerned eyes to Ennis once again.

"Daddy have you been drinking?"

Ennis was shocked.

"_How could she know that?"_

"No."

Junior frowned, and looked more like Alma then Ennis ever thought she had.

"Daddy, don't you lie ta me. I know ya been drinkin'. I'm ashamed that you'd show up fer Curt's birthday in a state like this."

Now he was getting it from his own daughter. Nothing was going his way.

"Well Junior, ya asked me ta come, and I didn't want to, but I'm here, so what more d'ya want from me. I can't be perfect all the time."

Junior frowned, obviously hurt.

"Fine. All right. Yer here. I guess that's all that can be expected."

She turned around and walked into the dining room. Ennis sighed. It was going to be one hell of a long evening.

* * *

Dinner had been fairly painless, that is until Junior brought up Jack in front of everyone.

Alma had made a lovely feast, in Curt's honor, of honey baked ham (his favorite) layered salad, sweet potato casserole, macaroni casserole, and fresh fruit with marshmallows. They had some wine that Bill had brought from his store for the celebration. Ennis ate and especially drank, little. Food was still not on his top ten list, and his headache was starting to turn wicked.

He'd been seated next to Alma's young son, Harold, who'd talked the entire meal about his interest in the Internet, and how amazing it was to have all the knowledge in the world at your fingertips. Ennis had half listened, trying to focus on eating some food, so Alma wouldn't find another reason to make him feel guilty. He desperately wanted to leave, though he didn't want to go back to his house. He didn't want to be haunted by the ghosts still roaming his kitchen and living room.

The conversation had mainly revolved around Curt and how his job was going. He'd been working in the oil fields when him and Junior had gotten married, but had eventually gone back to school at the local community college and gotten some more education, enough to get him a job working at a desk with the oil company he'd worked with before. It wasn't much, still not a high paying job, but it was better than rough labor and oil stains everyday for Junior to wash. She was very proud of him. The family had known to skirt the subject of their adoption situation, and had kept the conversation light. Finally, Bill had stood up and given a toast.

"To Curt, a wonderful, hardworkin' man, and a good husband ta Alma Jr., the best and sweetest woman there is. Curt, may you have many more days a' joy and may God protect both you, and Junior in the followin' years. Happy birthday."

Everyone said a 'happy birthday', even Ennis, and then they all drank. Ennis swallowed the wine, found the taste bearable, but not what he particularly wanted to drink at the moment. Ennis had never been much for wine anyway.

After the toast, the conversation switched its focus from Curt to Junior, and then to Will and his wife and baby, and finally to Harold, who told the group the same things that he'd told Ennis, only this time in a louder voice. Ennis wasn't sure which he wanted more, to fall asleep or to punch the boy in the face.

Ennis was completely checked out, he might as well not have been there. He was lost once again in his thoughts and in the pain pounding in his head. Suddenly the table got quiet and he realized that Junior had said something directed at him. He looked up slowly, wincing at the light from the chandelier and the candles.

"Sorry Junior, did ya jest say somthin'?"

Junior was frowning again, and Ennis could tell that she was still a little annoyed with him.

"I asked how yer friend Jack is. Is he back at yer house right now? Maybe ya coulda brought him ta dinner with us."

Ennis swallowed and looked around. All eyes were on him again. Why was it when he wanted to be invisible they all gave him their undying attention?

"Who's Jack?" Alma took a sip of wine and rested her hands on the table.

"Jack's Daddy's new friend. He's having some trouble with his car and he's staying at Daddy's house. Isn't that right?"

Ennis looked around. "Well, he…"

"Why's he staying at yer house? Is there enough room?"

Ennis stared at Alma. "He's been on the couch."

"He should get a hotel room. There's not enough room fer two men in yer little place." She was pushing food around on her plate, preaching to him what should and should not be, not even looking him in the eye. Bill wiped his face with his napkin and sat up.

"The man that owns the Delfelder Inn on Broadway and Washington shops at my store. I could get yer friend a good rate if'n you want."

"That's all right. Jack likes stayin' with you, right Daddy? Seems like enough room fer two old men ta me. I was over there on Sunday and made dinner for the both of them. Jack seems like a real nice guy."

"How'd ya meet him, Ennis?" Alma was looking up now with a blank expression on her face. Junior spoke up.

"I guess he helped him out in a bar fight or somthin', ain't that right?"

Everyone waited for an answer from Ennis. His mouth had gone completely dry, and his head was pounding faster now, in time with his increased heart rate. Ennis didn't know what to do. He couldn't handle all this, couldn't handle this family, and especially couldn't handle his ex-wife talking about Jack Twist. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the strange sense of deja-vu and the scene from the book, that one Thanksgiving dinner, came crashing down on top of him.

_"Don't lie, don't try to fool me, Ennis. I know what it means. Jack Twist? Jack Nasty. You and him—"_

Alma looked him straight in the eye. "I should've known."

Ennis stood up quickly and felt the room spin around. He stumbled backwards, grabbed at the table, but only got a handful of tablecloth and ended up pulling the plates and dishes towards the edge of the table and knocking his utensils and dining room chair on the ground. It all made a noisy ruckus and made the little boy sitting in a high chair at the end of the table start balling. Ennis caught his balance finally and looked down at the faces around the table, all startled and staring at him as though he'd just gone crazy, and maybe he had. All he knew was that he had to get out of there as soon as possible.

"Ennis what in the world has gotten inta you?" Alma cried, still seated, too shocked to do much else.

Ennis wobbled slightly on his feet, still woozy from the boos and from everything that had just happened. Alma's eyes were angry. He looked over at his daughter; her eyes were wide and full of worry.

"I'm sorry. I have ta go. I'm sorry."

He turned around and ran from the dining room, tripping on the rug on his way out, almost falling once again. He steadied himself on a nearby table and then continued to hightail out of the house. He made it to the front door as fast as possible, grabbed his hat, and his jean jacket, put it on as quickly as he could, getting his arm caught in the sleeve. He opened the door and stepped out, only to be stopped by his daughter's cries behind him.

"Daddy! Daddy! What's wrong? What's wrong?"

She flew from the house, a small angel with her halo of short auburn hair, so like her mother's, and touched down onto the porch where he stood. She caught her breath and placed one of her hands on his forearm. He was shaking, and the feel of her touch soothed him slightly.

"Daddy, tell me what's wrong. I've never seen ya like this before. I know there's somethin' goin' on."

Ennis looked away. He looked out into the darkness at his lonely truck parked by the curb.

"Nothin's wrong. I jest don't feel well. I gotta go home. I'm sorry, darlin'."

"Don't you lie ta me, Ennis Del Mar!" Her voice had turned stern, much like his own when he used to get strict with the girls, but her eyes gave her away.

"Tell me!"

Ennis stared at his daughter, now a woman by a long run. He didn't know when she'd grown up, it had snuck up on him, but he'd never realized it more than he did at that exact moment. After all the years she'd been living on her own, a married woman, it was this one moment that defined Junior as a woman to her daddy. He breathed in, considered lying, then thought how lying never did anyone any good.

"Jack left today. The part fer his truck came in yesterday and he left this mornin'."

Some relief washed over Junior's face. "Is that all?"

Ennis flinched at her words and straightened up.

"Yeah, I guess that's all. Well, no. He came back a little bit later in the day and then we got in a fight. That's why I got this here busted lip."

Junior's eyes softened. "I'm sorry ta here that. So ya didn't part on good terms then?"

Ennis shook his head silently, felt like his heart was breaking again, just thinking about it, telling it to his daughter.

"I remember this one time when Me n' Curt had gotten in the worse fight imaginable. It was horrible. I thought we was goin' ta get a divorce. This was when you was away workin' fer a while." She took a deep breath and then continued.

"Anyway. I told Curt ta pack up his things and leave, and we separated fer a week almost. After he was gone I thought I'd never been so lonely. In the quiet a' the house, I got a chance ta think. I started ta think about what we'd been fighting about, and eventually I realized that it wasn't even that big a deal, though at the time it'd seemed like it."

Ennis looked down at his daughter with a puzzled look.

"Look, Daddy. I'm not tryin' ta teach ya a lesson. Lord knows yer a grown man and can figure things out fer himself, and I know that my story don't quite apply ta you n' yer friend Jack, but…well…"

She tapped him on the chest with her finger.

"Ya jest gotta think, what's more important? Yer friendship? Or yer pride?"

Ennis looked down at the wooden floorboards below his boots.

"Don't know if it's that easy, Junior."

"Well," Junior buttoned a button on Ennis' shirt that had come undone. "It wasn't easy with me n' Curt, either. But I realized I couldn't let a good thing go."

She looked back up at her Dad, looked him straight in the eye.

"I think what you got with Jack is a good thing. He seems like a good friend, and a nice guy. You should give yerself some time ta think it over, and then maybe try and at least make amends."

Ennis swallowed, felt the anxiety bug bite him once again and started to dance from foot to foot. Junior smiled slightly at his display.

"All right. You get on outta here. Go home. Feel better."

Ennis nodded, but was still amazed by the woman that stood before him. Who'd replaced his daughter with such a wise woman of the world? He gave her a quick hug, whispered his apologies, and then let her go back inside to the dinner. After she'd closed the door, he took the steps down from the porch in two big leaps, and headed to his truck. He didn't want to stay any longer, didn't want to wait for Alma to come out and give him the scolding of his life. He felt terrible that he'd ruined Curt's party, but he hadn't been able to sit there and listen to his ex-wife and daughter talk about his troubles, toss around Jack's name like it was no big deal.

Ennis hopped into the passenger seat and pulled away from the house he'd never lived in, the family he'd never been apart of, the life he'd left behind.

* * *

He sat outside in his truck. He didn't pull into the carport, had left his truck out in the middle of the drive so he could have a good view of the stars. They were bright and clear, but nowhere near as brilliant as they were on Brokeback. He sat completely still, hands in his lap, head turned to see out the passenger side window.

The last parting words he'd said to Jack ran through his head over and over.

_"I'm sorry too. Sorry I ever met you. Sorry I took ya up ta Brokeback."_

Ennis wasn't sure if he meant that anymore. He wasn't sure if he'd even meant it when he'd said it. He thought about what Junior had said.

_"What's more important? Yer friendship? Or yer pride?"_

His mind turned to Jack, the last words he'd said to Ennis.

_"I'm sorry it all happened this way, Ennis."_

His mind was on fire. Thoughts were racing around his skull at breakneck speed, and he was having a hard time focusing on any one thing. He'd narrow in on something and then just as he had it in his sights it was gone again, and he was left grasping desperately at the other thoughts buzzing around like flies. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, cleared his mind. Then the story, for the thousandth time that day returned. The whole story; the eerie passages that told his life to the 'T', and the other ones, the ones that didn't tell his story, but told a different one, one that involved Jack Twist. Jack Twist, who he'd only known for about five days, and who'd gone from stranger to acquaintance, to best friend, to liar and enemy.

Ennis was confused. There was too much to think about, too many things to consider, too many feelings to question. Ennis found the north star, the star he used to follow when he was out on horseback, taking stock out to graze at night, the star he'd used to guide his way up to the most beautiful spot on earth the first time he'd found it, and when he'd taken Jack the night before. It shined bright in the night sky, bright as it had the night before, and bright as it would the night after. Nothing changed. Nothing ended, nothing begun, nothing resolved.


	12. Chapter 12

Childress, Texas

July 18, 2000

Jack was sitting at his desk in his office doing nothing. He'd been doing nothing all morning, unless sitting in front of his computer watching the screen savor words sail across the monitor counted.

_Newsome Farm Equipment…Newsome Farm Equipment…_

He sighed and leaned back, drumming his fingers on the arm of his computer chair. Well he was here, wasn't he? Isn't that all that could be asked of him? He showed his face and now Lureen couldn't bitch at him and that was that.

Jack stilled his hands, stopped their nervous drumming and shaking, and tried to calm himself down. He closed his eyes, took deep breaths, and tried to picture something soothing. Lureen had told him about this technique her therapist had showed her when she'd been going to counseling outside of town. He'd brushed the idea aside originally, thought he didn't need any stupid techniques to help ease his mind, but in the past few weeks had been putting the practice to good use. His thoughts automatically turned to the mountains, one particular mountain, with one particular person sitting next to him, eyes on fire.

Jack opened his eyes. He felt better, a little. But as soon as the view of his all too familiar office and the dry, flat land of the Texas plains outside his window, the good feeling started to slip away. It never lasted for long. Jack's favorite time of the day was night—then he could dream to his heart's content, and for a few blissful hours, actually believe what he was dreaming was true.

It had been three weeks to the day since the fateful Tuesday where Jack and Ennis had parted. His eye had healed, but for a while he'd had a horrible shiner, big and black and green on the sides, a constant reminder of what had happened, a reminder that drove him to drink more than he had in years.

The past three weeks had been a personal hell for Jack. He didn't know who or where he was half the time. At first, he'd had to fight the temptation to stay in bed all day long, everyday. Lureen would have known something was wrong if he did, she probably knew as it was, but she was too busy with the plans to merge with McGuire Tractor and Farming Inc. (the old bastard had finally been persuaded and now they were on their way to expanding) to say anything to him or even give a damn it seemed.

Lureen had been acting weird recently, though. She was hardly ever home—not like she'd been Suzy Homemaker before—spent most of her time at the office or out wining and dining different business associates. Jack didn't mind, honestly wished her the best in her endeavors and appreciated the peace and quiet. No one to have to talk to, no one to half to explain things to, just him, by himself with his thoughts and regrets. Besides, Lureen never liked him drinking too much, and with her out of the house, doing business everywhere, he had the chance to toss back as much liquor as he wanted, drown himself with the stuff if he so chose, and also to smoke. He'd taken it up again when he'd gotten back from Riverton, decided that you only live once and really gone at it like a chimney. At first, he'd smoked about three packs a day, but eventually he'd calmed down and cut it back to a pack. He wouldn't smoke inside the house, even Lureen would have noticed the smell, so he'd go outside, sit on their back patio, look up at the sky and just suck down the nicotine till his chest hurt. He didn't care. The dry, bitter taste and burn of the tar felt good, was something to dull the pain he felt in his heart.

The first few days back from Riverton were especially horrible. The drive home had been bad, but the closer he got back to Childress the closer he got back to his own life, the life he'd started to think was just a bad dream when he'd been in Wyoming with Ennis. He'd driven, helpless, as the scenery began to change from the wild sweeping mountain landscapes, to red dirt and dessert, to the barren plains of the Texan Pan handle. He'd been numb the whole way, didn't know what to think or what to believe. Wanted to believe that maybe Ennis had just been upset, maybe he'd come around, but as his "home town" for thirty-four years neared, so did the old Jack, the Jack that was hopeless and pathetic and tired and old, and _that_ Jack knew that Ennis would never come around. Knew that man's last words were the final words that would ever grace his ears.

_"Sorry I ever met you. Sorry I took ya up ta Brokeback."_

Those words had been the end, and then a closed door and a lock clicking. And that was that. Jack's world had completely fallen down around him, he'd felt like screaming and running up to the bathroom door and banging it down and beating Ennis senseless until he took back the things he'd just said. But Jack was powerless to do any of those things. He'd just stood there. He stood there when he heard the shower turn on, and he stood there when it turned off. When the water stopped running, he'd suddenly remembered what Ennis had said about being gone before he was done, and Jack turned and flew to the front door. He'd stopped when he was there, turned around and surveyed Ennis' small house one last time. It was a sad little space. It hadn't seemed that way before—before it had been one of the happiest, most wonderful places he'd ever been, felt like he could have stayed their forever sleeping on Ennis' slightly uncomfortable couch, just for the pleasure of his company and the sight of his face when he got home from work.

He'd narrowed in on the book lying on the floor in front of the couch. Jack had considered leaving it where it was, then thought maybe he'd take it with him. He walked over and picked it up, not liking the weight of it in his hands. He turned it over and stared at its cover for the thousandth time since he'd bought it. He'd known that it was wrong for him to take it. He didn't know why, but it wasn't his anymore. He didn't need the book, he knew it all by heart and he'd somehow come to terms with what it said. He'd known he had to leave it there, time to pass the torch on to someone else. Let Ennis do with it what he pleased, burn it, read it, put it through a wood chipper. He didn't care.

Jack closed the book and set it down on the table near the recliner where Ennis set his keys and sometimes his hat, thought it looked good sitting there. He'd heard more water running from inside the bathroom, and he remembered he had to leave. He gave the house another once over, recalling memories and stories told and laughs shared as his eyes moved from the bathroom to the kitchen table to the living room couch. He'd sighed and finally turned, unlocked the front door and left Ennis' house for good. There was no more he could do, he'd tried his best, given it his all, and the best it'd amounted to was shit. Nothing ever came to his hand the right way.

And then he'd been on the road, driving away from Ennis' door, driving back to his own house, which felt like less of a home than he thought it ever had. He'd pulled over to sleep for a few hours in the middle of the night, needed it since he hadn't slept at all the night before. He set his internal alarm to wake him in two hours so he could finish his journey, get home, and begin to try and forget it ever happened. Once he was still for a mintute, his fatigue had hit him like a ton of bricks. He'd never felt so tired in his life, and he'd never felt so bad. It wasn't until then, the passenger seat leaned back as far as it would go, the quiet of the open land and the dark all around except when a car would come by, headlights blaring, that the tears started. They were quiet, tired tears, tears of a man that's been wounded and left out to die. His tears weren't solely for Ennis; they were an accumulation of everything that had happened and how weak and tired and sick he felt. He wanted to shower and to shave and to sleep in a bed, but he didn't want to go home. He wanted to go anywhere but back to his house in Childress. And what were you if you didn't want to be where you were, and you didn't want to go where you were going? Lost, that's what.

Jack had finally fallen into a trouble sleep, one that was plagued by dreams and a constant need to know what time it was. After a couple hours he'd started the truck again, his internal alarm clock unneeded with his half sleep, and had gotten back on the road. He'd arrived in Childress at eight o'clock the next morning. He'd pulled into his garage and parked at five after.

He dragged himself out of the F-150, nearly forgetting to turn it off, and went inside, leaving his bag in the back of the truck. He'd headed straight to the bathroom and took a short, hot shower, wanted a long one, but was too tired to be able to stand up any longer than five minutes. When he was done he'd put on a pair of boxer shorts and a tee shirt and had gone into the bedroom. He sat on his side of the bed, then had thought twice and decided he should call Lureen. There was a phone on his nightstand, so he picked it up and dialed her office number. The familiar voice of her secretary, Grace-Anne, had answered the phone.

_"Newsome Farm Equipment, Lureen Twist's office, how may I help you?"_

_"Hey Grace-Anne. It's Jack, can I speak to my wife fer a minute?"_

"Hey there Jack!" Her voice had immediately taken on its regular flirty tone. Seemed like she hadn't taken the hint last time when Jack had tried to tell her he wasn't interested. 

_"How're you doin' Grace-Anne?" It was more of a polite greeting than an actually interested comment._

_"Oh I'm jest wonderful. It's good ta know yer back in town Jack. When'd ya get in?"_

Jack had figured Lureen would go around telling everyone and their brother that he'd left for a while. She'd probably done it to get sympathy. Maybe not. Maybe Jack just had a bitter view of his wife.

_"This mornin'. I'm aweful tired, I jest wanted ta tell Lureen that I'm home."_

_"Well aren't you jest the sweetest thang! One moment. She's on another call, but I'm sure she can take yers fer a minute."_

Jack had been put on hold briefly and was reminded of the first time he'd acted on his bizarre fascination with Brokeback Mountain and had called Annie Proulx's agent. Suddenly a voice had come on the line, and it might as well have been Annie's agent, because it was like talking to a stranger.

_"Hey there Jack. Heard yer home. Is that all?"_

Jack frowned. "'Is that all?' That's what ya have ta say ta yer beloved husband after he returns from his adventures? Not a 'I'm so glad yer home, I can't wait ta get you inta bed?'"

_Lureen was quiet for a moment. "Jack I don't have time ta mess around. I'm on another call, and I need to get back to it. Is there somethin' ya need?"_

_"Jesus Lureen! Can't ya take a fuckin' joke? And no there's nothin' I need, I jest called ta tell ya I'm back. Was tryin' ta be considerate."_

_"Well thank ya kindly, honey. I'll see ya later tonight. Bye."_

_There was a click before Jack could get another word in._

_"Bye." _

He'd set the phone back on the receiver and stared out the window that was across from his side of the bed. He stared out side at the sloping land that his house sat on, stared at the lines of pecan and peach tress that bordered his yard.

When had their marriage come to that? It wasn't anything new, but he didn't remember it being _that _bad. Jack figured it had taken him leaving, finding something else, someone he had passionate feelings for, to discover how poor their relationship was. It was pathetic, really. Had he been living with this for thirty-four years? Jack had shook his head and laid back, not bothering to get under the covers. He didn't think it had always been bad, seemed like there had been some good times, but they had been infrequent and eventually they had stopped occurring completely. What was he doing? What was he doing in such a stale relationship when he knew that there was so much better, something so incredible he'd never thought it possible?

_"Except ya fucked it up with him, and now that ain't happenin' either."_

Jack had fallen asleep and this time hadn't dreamt at all.

He was stirred from his thoughts and his memories by a knock at the door. Jack looked up, realized he was still at work and not in his bed after returning from Wyoming. He cleared his throat and tapped his mouse, brought up something that looked like work. He placed his hands on his keyboard, and looked up at the door.

"Come in."

The door opened and then Marty Benson walked in, a big gray hat on his head, unsuccessfully covering his giant ears.

"Hey there, Jack! Was wantin' ta know if ya wanted ta come ta lunch with me n' Bill, n' Sam. We was gonna go out ta the Golden Dragon, thought ya might wanna come along."

Jack stared blankly at Marty. Sure, he might want to go, if he was the type that thought going to the dentist was fun. Jack looked at the little electronic clock that sat next to a picture of his family, and noticed that it was already going on noon.

"Ya know, actually I'm gonna be headin' out a here 'bout now. I'll jest eat somethin' at home, so you guys go right ahead. Thanks fer thinkin' a me, though."

"Sure thing, Jack."

Marty turned around and closed Jack's office door behind him.

"Asshole." Jack muttered.

It wasn't that he didn't like the people that worked there, well no that wasn't quite true, it was just that he didn't want to be friends with any of them. He hadn't met a soul that had any interests other than making more money or who had more personality that a string tie—he hoped that wasn't just the pot calling the kettle black. Jack had tried to like them, to make friends, to live a normal life, but whenever he was around them, all they talked about were stocks, the stock market, Newsome Farm Equipments investments _in_ the stock market, or on some brief occasions, golf or whatever stupid functions their wives were planning. It was dull; it was what he had to live with day to day. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about it in his free time. Jack had dreams; he was a rodeo cowboy, he was reckless, he wanted to spend his time with someone that understood that, understood the rugged life, wanted more than material possessions, someone that had passion about _something._

Jack rubbed his tired face with his open palms.

_"Jesus, Ennis. I'm so fuckin' alone here. I've always been. I need ya, I need ya with me."_

He tried not to think about Ennis for a minute, but it was impossible. Jack sighed and stood up from his desk, turned his computer off, and gathered his things to leave. He walked out of his office, gave Grace-Anne a curt nod, and then walked up to his wife's closed office door. He knocked. No answer. He knocked again. He heard her hushed voice talking on the phone and then a louder 'Bye' and a click.

"Yes?"

Jack opened the door slightly. "Since when ya been closing yer door?"

Lureen gave Jack and innocent look. "I don't know what yer talkin' 'bout. I always have my office door closed."

"Ya do not. It's been a recent development."

"Well, sometimes I jest need some privacy, okay?"

Jack held his hands up in front of him, warding off her anger.

"All right, all right. I was jest wonderin'. Anyway, I'm leavin' now. You gonna be home early today or no?"

Lureen was back typing on her computer, not looking his way.

"Um…I'll be home regular time today. I'll make dinner tonight."

Jack nodded. "Surprise, surprise…"

"Hmmm?" She looked up from her computer.

Jack waved his hand at her. "Never mind. I'll see ya later."

He left her office, left the job he'd never wanted and the marriage he'd grown tired of behind him.

* * *

Jack hopped out of the truck and waited for his granddaughter, Eliza to get out and meet him around the front of the F-150. They were in the parking lot of JT's Drive-in, a burger joint that also had the best barbeque in town. Eliza liked to joke that Jack owned the place because of its initials.

It was Thursday and Jack hadn't gone into work (never _really_ needed to) so he could take his joy, his little girl, out to lunch. He hadn't spent much time with her since he'd returned, and he now regretted that, because his time with Eliza was becoming the only time when he could truly forget about Ennis and the empty ache that resonated in his chest every minute of the day. Unfortunately, she couldn't spend the whole day with him, couldn't have a "poppa day" because she had to go to a birthday party that afternoon that was being held at a water park outside of town, and she couldn't be late. That was okay with Jack. Some time trumped no time.

"Let's go. I'm starving." She said when she reached him at the front of his truck.

"You hungry fer some ribs?"

"Ew. No. I hate ribs." She crinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue.

"You hate ribs? What kind of Texan are you?"

"The kind that doesn't like ribs!"

Jack chuckled at this. "Well than what _are_ ya gonna get?"

"A burger and fries!"

Jack clapped her lightly on the back and rubbed her neck affectionately.

"All right. Sounds good. Maybe I'll get the same."

The two walked through the doors and got in line to order. They could have waited in the truck, but Eliza had said that she wanted to go inside, wanted to stretch her legs a little. It was hot as hell out, but she said that the air conditioning bothered her a little, hurt her chest. Jack had nodded, trying not to worry about her too much and agreed that it would be good to stretch their legs a little. Didn't want to get too lazy and accustomed to people bringing food right out to the car.

He ordered Eliza a small kids burger and fries with a strawberry shake, just like she wanted, and got himself a double cheeseburger with onion rings instead of fries and a root beer float. They got their food and then found a picnic table under an overhang where they could sit and relax in the shade. They were quiet while they ate their food. Eventually, Jack leaned back to stretch his stomach, set down his burger, took a sip of his root beer and broke the silence.

"So who's birthday party ya goin to today?"

"Kelley-Anne Patterson. She's the girl that nearly fainted when we were at camp and she saw the snake!"

Jack nodded. "I remember you told me that." He burped quietly and took another bite of his food.

"You good friend with her?"

Eliza was quiet for a minute. "Yeah. She's pretty cool. I don't really like her family, though."

Jack gave her a thoughtful look. He actually knew her father. His name was Leroy Patterson and he sometimes came to play golf with the group that Jack went out with. He didn't know him that well, knew he worked at a car dealership, which is how he knew some of the guys that Jack worked with.

"What's wrong with her family?"

Eliza was pushing her French fries around her burger wrapper, rolling them around in ketchup and mashing them with her fingers. She still had half of her burger left. She didn't answer and Jack figured he would just let it be. He didn't want her to leave her food though.

"Eliza, s'there somethin' wrong with yer burger?"

She shook her head. Her eyes were cast down.

"I'm jest not that hungry. That's all."

Jack frowned. "I thought ya said ya were starvin' a little while ago."

She shrugged. "I was."

Eliza coughed a little, and Jack winced at the sound. Her asthma must have been acting up. He hoped she'd be okay at the water park. He continued eating, and to his surprise, Eliza remained mostly silent. He knew something must be wrong, because usually he couldn't keep her from talking, she was just like him in that regard, at least when he was in good company. Jack frowned. He remembered the last time he'd seen her act like this. It had been when they'd been at the Pizza Hut, the afternoon they'd gone to the library. She'd seemed like something was bothering her, like she'd wanted to tell him something, but hadn't. Jack was tired of her quiet game, and wanted to know what was wrong.

"Eliza. Sweetie, look at me."

She raised her head, and her sad blue eyes pierced Jack's heart. She seemed to be deep in thought.

"What's wrong? Somethin' troubling you?"

She shook her head, but Jack didn't buy it.

"Come on now. Ya can tell me. I wanna know."

She sighed, never took her eyes of his. "Poppa, what's a faggot?"

A cold hand seized Jack's heart and his breath caught in his throat. He adjusted himself in his seat and took another drink of his root beer. Then he leaned forward and lowered his voice, as if others could hear their conversation.

"Now where did ya hear a word like that? That's not a very nice thing ta say."

"I know, I mean, I kinda guessed." She played with her hands. "So what's it mean?"

"This is what's been botherin' you? Did ya hear some kids from the neighborhood sayin' that word?"

Eliza looked down and frowned, confused and obviously a little stricken.

"No. I…I heard Kelly-Anne's dad sayin' it one day when we were at her house."

Jack sat up a little and raised his eyes brows. "And…"

"Poppa, he said it about _you_."

Ice ran down Jack's spine and he blinked, not sure if he'd heard what his granddaughter said.

"What? What d'ya mean he said it about me?"

"I heard him. Me n' Kelly-Anne were playin' Barbie's in the hallway and her dad was in the kitchen with her mom. I don't know what they were talkin' 'bout, but I remember he called you a faggot. The word sounded nasty, and I didn't like hearing him say something bad about you."

Jack's breathing was becoming labored. He was stunned.

_"Could that have jest been a passing comment? Or has he…"_

Had he read the book? That was the question that was ricocheting around his skull like stray bullet. He'd never thought about the possibility of someone else reading the story. Of course he knew that there were going to be people that would read it, but he'd never imagined someone from Childress, much less someone he knew, picking it up.

_"You did."_

So he had. The thought had never crossed his mind. And what did that mean? What now? Suddenly, an image of tire irons raised against the blue of the Texas sky flashed through his mind. He'd never thought it would come to this.

"Poppa? Poppa? Are you okay?"

Jack looked down at his granddaughter, the rest of his food now forgotten. His voice was rough and cracked when he finally got words out.

"Yeah. I'm okay. How long's it been? How long's this been troublin' you?"

Eliza looked a little sheepish. "It happened a couple days before we left for Girl Scout camp. I didn't want ta tell ya. Didn't think it was that important, but it's been bothering me for a long time now."

Jack's eyes widened. A few days before she'd left for Girl Scout camp. That meant that Leroy must have read the book even before _he_ had. That seemed incredibly wrong, Leroy getting some sort of odd insight into Jack's life, when Jack didn't even know that the source existed.

Jack suddenly realized something. He'd gone out golfing on one occasion before he'd left for Riverton, before he'd even gotten the nerve to call Ennis' number. He'd been dragged out against his will as usual, and Leroy had been there. The whole time Leroy hadn't said a word to him, hadn't made eye contact, had downright ignored him. Jack figured that didn't sound like much, but it was really odd for Leroy. He was a fairly friendly sort, usually talked to Jack. He was around Bobby's age, maybe a little older, and they'd talk about the girls, because they both knew they liked to play together. It had mainly been polite small talk, but still. Jack had just assumed that he'd been having a bad day that he hadn't felt like being sociable. But now he remembered that Leroy _had_ talked to the other guys, just…not him.

_"He knows then. He must've read the fuckin' book. That fuckin' book."_

Jack was so angry. All that book seemed to do was bring him more trouble. He couldn't believe it. He should have known someone else would read it in town. Just, why did it have to be someone he knew?

"Poppa, tell me what the word means."

Jack looked back at his little girl. How could he tell her what it meant? How could he tell her about the ugliness that people had in their hearts, about the ignorance many people had to face everyday? He sighed.

"Don't worry 'bout it, sweetheart. It's nothin' important. Don't' let it bother ya."

Her eyes got darker, colder with anger.

"Tell me! Don't treat me like a little girl! I'm not little anymore! Tell me what it means, I deserve ta know—"

Her voice started to rise and she had a coughing fit. Jack pulled her inhaler out from her little backpack and handed it to her. She grabbed it, took off its cap and then sucked in two puffs. Jack waited patiently while she got her bearings back. He was worried now, about more things than one.

"I don't think ya should go ta yer friends birthday party today."

Eliza looked up. "Why not? I'm fine, and her daddy won't be there anyway. He's off on some business trip."

Lucky for Jack, but maybe unlucky too. Jack thought it might be best to confront Leroy about it, tell him the truth of the matter (partly), before it spread too much, if it hadn't done so already. With him gone he couldn't do that. He'd have to wait until he got back, hopefully he wouldn't lose his nerve by then.

"The water park's probably not the best thing fer yer asthma today."

Eliza shrugged. "It's fine. It's jest bothering me cuz it's so dry out. I think the water might do me some good. Anyway, Mama already said I could."

Jack frowned, wasn't happy about the situation, but figured maybe he was making a bigger deal of it than needed.

"All right. If you say so. Are ya ready ta go?"

Eliza shook her head. "Not until ya tell me what it means."

Jack cringed and looked away.

"Ya have ta know? Can't ya ask yer mom?"

"I want you ta tell me. I can't talk ta mama 'bout things like that, anyway."

Jack bit at his lip and ran his tongue over his teeth.

"All right. Ya see…that _word_ is a very mean word fer men who are homosexual."

Eliza gave him a blank stare. Jack knew she wouldn't understand and hated to have to explain further.

"Fer men who like men."

"What?"

"Ya know how yer daddy and yer mama love each other? Well sometimes there's people like two men or two women that love each other in the same way."

Eliza eyes widened. She was silent for a moment and then she gave Jack a look that nearly broke his heart.

"Are you? Is it true?"

Jack didn't want to lie to her, but the truth was, he wasn't so sure himself. If loving Ennis made him a faggot, then he guessed he was, but…why hadn't he been inclined before? Was it just because he'd never had the opportunity? Never been exposed to that kind of thing? Jack thought for a minute. He could remember some times when he'd still been a young man living on his parents ranch. He remembered there had been a ranch hand that had worked with his dad for a while. He was fairly young and had been good looking. Jack seemed to recall being drawn to his large muscles, recalled watching the way the sweat had clung to his back and dripped from his face. He thought he remembered feeling something when he'd watching the man working outside in the barn or out on horseback, something that made the blood rush to his face and made his dick tingle slightly. He'd never acted on it, he never even really acknowledged it, but Jack still couldn't be sure. There was no good trying to figure it out at the moment, he didn't know, and he decided that he didn't need to be telling his granddaughter about any of this no how.

"No, sweety. Yer friend's dad was probably jest tryin' ta be mean. Sometimes people are like that."

Eliza didn't smile. But her eyes looked slightly relieved—she still had tears brimming at the corners, though. Jack didn't know if she believed him, or if she even understood, but it was all he could do at the moment. He smiled at her, hoping to get something similar from her, for he loved her smile. Loved it like he loved Ennis'. She wasn't obliging though; her eyes had returned back to her food, and she continued to push some French fries around the table.

"Come on, don't get all worked up over this sort a' thing. You don't need ta let yerself worry 'bout me."

"I jest don't understand why he would have said something like that 'bout you. I jest don't get it."

"Some things we can't ever know. We all can't look inside each other's heads and understand what the other is thinking, if that was possible, things would be a lot better all over the place. Unfortunately it's not like that."

Eliza sniffed a little, wiped at her nose with the back of her hand. Jack couldn't bear to see her so upset.

"We should probably get goin'. I don't want ya ta be late fer yer birthday party."

Jack stood and picked up both of their trays, walked over to the trashcan and dumped them, then set the trays on a table near by. When he came back to the table, Eliza was standing with her knapsack of her back, head down kicking around a little stone. She was pretty as a picture, black hair lying softly on her shoulders, her light skin, like porcelain next to her purple tee shirt. Jack felt the need to whisper, to show respect like a priest praying at an altar.

"You ready?"

She looked up and graced Jack with one of her beautiful smiles.

"Yep." One word.

Eliza took his hand as they walked to Jack's truck.

* * *

It was the next day and once again Jack had gone into work and left before noon. He hadn't bothered to stop in at Lureen's office, her door had been closed again, and Jack didn't feel like having to interrupt her.

_"Don't really care, no how."_

He was ready to go home, maybe take a nap and maybe watch some TV. Jack thought a little later he might go for a walk around the land connected to their property in back. There were some great nature trails that had been there for as long as he could remember that he'd never taken advantage of. He decided there was no time like the present.

He got in his truck and left the parking lot heading back to his house. He'd been extremely troubled by what Eliza had told him the day before. He wasn't sure how to take it. He didn't want people reading something that was so personal to him. Didn't like the idea of someone he knew talking about him behind his back and snubbing him because of what had been written in some book. But how were people supposed to know it wasn't true? And just how close had the story come to reality in the past weeks? That was something Jack hadn't thought about. Hadn't the story partially fulfilled itself? Jack swallowed hard. How much more was going to come true?

Jack had been thinking about this hard all night long and he still couldn't shake the feeling. When he'd read the story, he'd been so overwhelmed by the fact that the story was about his life and that it portrayed him as a gay man, that he had kind of pushed away the fact that in the story he'd been killed. It had been too creepy, too much for him to wrap his mind around, especially when he'd been busy trying to wrap his mind around the rest of it. He'd never given it much thought. Not until the day before when his granddaughter had told him what she'd heard.

He didn't know how worried he should be. He didn't know if Leroy _had_ read the story. He could have just been being mean, though Jack had never given him any reason not to like him, and he thought that it was too much of a coincidence. He must have read the book. Would he tell people? Would word get out, and would everyone start looking at him differently on the street, start snubbing him, just because of the book?

_"Will I end up dead by the side of the road?"_

Jack didn't know. Surely things weren't as bad now. It was 2000 after all…then again, he still heard about all sorts of hate crimes that were committed on the news. It had only been two years since the story of Matthew Shepard had been all over the news telling how he'd been killed for being gay, been beaten and tied to a fence in Wyoming.

None of this seemed fair. Jack hadn't done anything. It was all in the story. At least Brokeback Jack had actually been with Ennis, something Jack thought was possibly worth the trouble. Bring on the storm.

Jack sighed and leaned his head back in his seat. Ennis was like a balm on his troubled mind. He wished above all else he could see him again, would do anything to turn back time and change the way he'd handled things. If only he'd told him from the beginning. Well maybe that wouldn't have been the best idea. Would Ennis have been willing to let him stay in his house and allowed himself to get close and open up if Jack had started out telling him the truth?

_"Well then, I wish I hadn't forgotten to take that fuckin' book with me. Then maybe I could have told him easy, kept him from gettin' so angry, kept him from hatin' my guts."_

There was nothing more Jack could do now, though. It was over, and Jack would just have to let that be. The thought made Jack's breath catch in his throat, but he was able to calm himself down and keep driving. At least he had some good memories, the best of memories, enough to keep him going for a long time—he hoped.

As Jack was pulling up to his street, he saw the mailman pass him. He figured while he was at the end of the driveway he could check the mail. Most likely bills, but he got out of his truck anyway, opened the mailbox, pulled out the mail which consisted of several envelopes and a couple advertisement magazines. He got back in the truck and pulled into the garage.

After he'd gotten into the house he walked over the kitchen counter and set the stack down, flipped through it briefly—bill, bill, coupons. Not much. He picked it up again to move it to the table in the hallway, where they stacked all their mail for some reason, when something flew out from the pile and landed on the floor. Jack set the stack back on the counter and bent down to pick it up. He stopped when he saw what it was.

It was an 8x4 inch postcard with a picture of a distant snowcapped mountain range. In the foreground there was a field of wild flowers—purple with patches of yellow, just like the field he'd been in with Ennis at the Owl Creek Ranch.

Jack's heart jumped up in his throat. He wasn't sure what it was, but he had a feeling in his stomach, a feeling he couldn't describe, but wasn't bad. He reached out an unsteady hand and picked it up, looked at the picture again and then slowly flipped it over. There was some writing, blue ink, in a slightly messy hand.

_Jack,_

_Taking time off to head up to the Tetons. Leaving on Sunday the 23rd._

_Ennis_

Jack read the words over and over. He sat down hard on one of the kitchen table chairs. He ran a hand over his face, rubbed at his eyes, and read the card again. Jack thought his heart might explode, it was beating so hard. The words were vague, but he understood. Ennis was asking him to come, had opened the door, knew it was his move, and now Jack had the okay he needed to get his ass back to Wyoming as soon as possible.

_"He sent a postcard. Like in the story. He did it on purpose, did it so's I'd know what he meant."_

Jack thought he knew, but it seemed too good to be true. He had to get to Wyoming, had to get there by Sunday, screw Leroy and all the people that may know about his "dirty little secret". Jack got up from the kitchen chair and went into his bedroom, getting out his duffel bag to re-pack his things. He was on his way to Ennis, back on the road that led to his door.


	13. Chapter 13

_Many times I've been alone, and many times I've cried._

_Anyway, you'll never know the many ways I've tried._

_And still they lead me back to the long winding road._

_You left me standing here, a long, long time ago._

_Don't leave me waiting here;_

_lead me to your door._

Jack was in the bedroom stuffing a collection of random clothing into his duffel bag. He wasn't paying attention to what he was packing, he was too eager to get on the road and back to Ennis. His stomach was in a flurry, he felt like there was some sort of rodeo going on in there, mainly because he couldn't keep the message Ennis had written on the card from running over and over through his mind.

_"Oh God, Ennis. I need ya so bad. Can barely think straight right now."_

He picked up the phone on the nightstand and cradled it between his left shoulder and ear while he tried to make things fit in the bag better. He had to call Lureen and tell her what was what. He knew she wouldn't be happy, but wild horses couldn't keep him from getting to Wyoming as fast as possible.

The phone was ringing in his ear, and then, as usual, the familiar voice of Grace-Anne answered.

"Newsome Farm Equipment; Lureen Twist's office. How may I help you?"

"Grace-Anne I need ta talk ta Lureen."

"Jack? You okay? What's the rush?"

"Please, jest put her on. Don't care who I may be interruptin', this is important."

She hesitated slightly. "Okay, Jack. I'll get her."

Silence on the line for a few seconds and then Lureen's voice.

"Jack, what in the hell is so damned important? You better be on the side a' the road dyin' or somethin'"

Jack winced at her words and tried to ignore them, tried to keep his mind on what needed to be done.

"Lureen, I'm goin' back ta Wyoming today. Somethin' came up. I need ta leave soon's possible. I'll be back in a week or so."

There was laughter from the other end of the line. "You better be jokin'."

"No joke, Lureen."

"Jack, you can't leave, at least not today. Did ya forget about going ta Dallas?"

Jack straightened and ceased folding momentarily. "What?"

Lureen sighed. "Where the hell've you been the last few weeks? I've been tellin' ya 'bout this almost every day. The dinner with McGuire and his associates tonight? The cookout tomorrow? Remember, they came here last time, so we agreed ta go ta them the next time."

Jack sat hard on top of the clothes scattered across the bed.

"I…don't…"

"It's jest like you ta forget too. Jest the other day, I was telling ya how we didn't need ta get ourselves a hotel room, because they were gonna put us up fer free at the Hyatt."

Jack was flabbergasted. Now he remembered her talking about this, but it had been the least of his worries and he'd shoved it out of his mind, not thinking he'd need to retain the information since Lureen would tell him what to do anyway.

"I can't go." His voice was hollow, unconvincing.

There was silence on the other end.

"Jack Twist you better get yer ass packed, because we are leavin' tonight. This is our final social meetin' with McGuire before we officially merge, aka, this is a _big fuckin' deal!_ You are my business partner if anythin' else, and you _must come_, and that is that. I can respect this new found independence ya seem ta be havin', this new need ta explore yer roots, but there's a time and a place, and this is neither!"

Jack was speechless, but somehow the saliva returned to his mouth, and he found his voice.

"I'm already packed..." It was a lame attempt, but it was all he had. Lureen didn't take it the way he wanted her to, though.

"Well that's good then. I was jest about ta close up and come home so we could leave, thought ya left early ta get ready, too. I should've known better."

Jack swallowed. He knew when to fight Lureen and when not to, and it seemed he'd lost this battle.

"Lureen, when are we gettin' back? Is it possible ta miss the barbeque, or could I leave tonight after diner?"

"Why you got somewhere ya have ta be? You meetin' someone up there in Wyoming?"

Jack froze. "No."

"Well then what's the hurry?"

"I…" What could he tell her? He couldn't think of a good excuse so he told her the truth, as much as he could muster.

"Well, actually I _am_ meetin' someone up there, but it ain't what you was thinkin'. An old buddy a' mine's goin' up ta the mountains fer a fishing trip this Sunday, and he invited me ta go along. I don't wanna miss it."

"Since when you got a friend up there in Wyoming?"

"I've known him since I was young. I saw him again when I was up there last, and we picked up where we left off." Fiction meets reality.

Lureen sighed again, one of her most common noises when talking to Jack.

"Well, I don't know what ta tell ya, Jack. Ya have ta be there fer the barbeque on Saturday, after that I thought we was gonna stay another night and have dinner again, just ta be social. I suppose ya could leave tomorrow afternoon, though. If you just _have_ ta get ta Wyoming on Sunday."

Jack was shaking now. He didn't know if he'd be able to make it through their trip to Dallas.

"Look, Jack, we'll talk 'bout this more when I get home. Jest let me alone now, while I finish up. I'm tired a' talkin' ta you."

_Likewise._ "All right. I'll see ya in a bit, then."

There was a click and Jack was left alone with the dial tone and his thoughts.

* * *

It Sunday the 23rd , early morning. Ennis had woken up slightly before dawn to take a piss and mainly because he couldn't sleep. It was the day of his trip, the beginning of his short time off from work, and Jack still hadn't gotten in touch with him.

He was worried, worried Jack wouldn't come. He'd sent the postcard the past weekend just to be safe, just in case there had been some sort of delay in the mail.

_"Maybe that's what happened. Maybe he ain't got it. Maybe he don't know."_

Ennis was sitting on the couch, a pillow pulled over his lap, a cup of coffee held firmly between both hands. His legs were shaking up and down nervously, and he was staring off into the distance, eyes focused on something on the wall above the TV—seeing yet not seeing. If someone had taken a picture, he would have been quite a sight, hair sticking up in odd places, face sleepy yet somehow alert, wearing pajama bottoms and a tee shirt. He looked as much like a boy as he probably ever had. He took a sip of the coffee, for once didn't burn his mouth because it had been sitting untouched for a while.

Ennis was more than a little distressed. He'd thought he'd had it all planned out, though for the life of him didn't know what he wanted out of the whole thing or what he expected. He still wasn't sure how he felt about it all, but he _did_ know that the past four weeks had been the worst of his life. He wanted Jack with him, needed Jack with him no matter what. It had just taken him a while to figure it out.

He'd been angry for a long time. He hadn't thought about Jack or Brokeback Mountain much after that first night, deliberately worked extra hours until he was so tired he couldn't have thought about _anything_ (which wasn't very hard since they'd had to get the calves ready for auction about two weeks early). He'd come home everyday tired as hell, and would head straight to bed, sometimes without dinner. Unfortunately, in his sleep he couldn't control his thoughts. He'd dream about Jack, and about the book, and about the things they'd never done up on Brokeback. It was the dreams that eventually led him to send the post card, the dreams and Junior.

She'd put it all in perspective, made it all seem sensible, even though it had taken him a while to even see _that_. But, after a while, he'd decided that he couldn't ignore it forever, especially since the dreams weren't stopping, if anything they were getting worse—more real, and more sexual in nature. He didn't like it, but he couldn't deny it and that was that. He had to face his fears.

He'd been at work—after the hectic week with the calves, after everything had settled back down to normal—out in the northern territory with Art Granger, near where he had taken Jack that time. Granger was a funny guy, real sentimental, always talking about nature and beauty and shit like that. Ennis didn't mind his company all that much, preferred it to some of the other men that worked on the ranch, but would have rather been alone that day. They'd been out looking for any sign of a mountain lion. There had been some cattle missing, and a local farmer a little ways from the Owl Creek ranch had said he'd seen one out on his property. The whole while though, Granger had been too busy looking out towards the mountains to look for any indications of a wild cat. Eventually he'd turned to Ennis.

_"Aren't they wonderful?"_

_Ennis looked around, up at the mountains where Granger had gestured and nodded._

_"Yeah, they sure are."_

_Art was far away, mouth a little slack, sweat collecting on his forehead. _

"_You ever seen a nicer sight than this?"_

_Ennis swallowed hard. He sure had, but didn't want to tell this man. He could only share Brokeback with certain people, had only shared it with one other person to be exact._

_"No. Don't rightly think I ever will."_

That had brought the feel of the mountain air rushing back, and with it, the image of Jack standing in the moonlight, head tilted up towards the sky, throat exposed, hands in pockets, black hair close to ebony in the night. Ennis thought he was the best sight he'd ever seen, and it had made something stir deep inside, some new and strange feeling that he wasn't sure of, but made him want to touch Jack, to feel his pliant, warm skin underneath his finger tips. He'd wanted to touch his lips, would have damned himself for such a thought any other time, but on Brokeback things had been different, it had just been the two of them, two human beings deeply connected by some powerful force.

Ennis had remembered that moment, had never really forgotten it, but let his mind return to it, to run it over and see how it felt. When he'd gotten home, he re-read the story and was once again left speechless. His first reaction wasn't anger and confusion, though. This time he was able to feel the story, to feel the tragedy. It was crazy, the idea of him and Jack meeting on Brokeback Mountain, falling in love. But, for some strange reason, it wasn't _that_ crazy.

He began to consciously think about Jack again, about the way he'd made him laugh, and more importantly the way he'd made him feel. It terrified him, because he was starting to recognize what the feeling was.

"_I'm not no queer."_

And that's as far as he'd gotten. Over the next couple of weeks he wouldn't let himself get past that block. He took the quote straight from the book, kept playing it over in his head whenever his thoughts got too far, "I'm not no queer", "I'm not no queer", on and on until it became a personal mantra. But even that couldn't keep him from thinking about Jack. He replayed the days they were together in his mind non-stop, replayed the joy and the sadness and the anger.

Was he still angry? He wasn't sure, but after nearly three weeks, Ennis had gotten tired of being in the quiet house, missed talking to Jack, missed his face, missed his spirit, just honest to God missed the man. He'd decided to take fate into his own hands.

He'd arranged to take a week off work, told Stoutamire that he needed time to sort things out. Stoutamire had agreed, since Ennis never took work off and had done such a good job the past week with the calves, and had even given him an extra week. Ennis was worried about taking so much time off, but Stoutamire had insisted, told him it was no trouble, he'd get two of the hands to split up his work, said they'd been asking for overtime anyway. Ennis had still been weary, but had agreed, figuring that two weeks would be more than enough time to sort things out.

He was incredibly surprised Stoutamire had actually agreed and thrown in the last week. When Ennis had first worked for him, he'd been somewhat of a hard ass, was always upset when Ennis took a few days off, even when it had been for time with his daughters. But he figured that the longer Stoutamire had known him, the more he'd come to trust him. It was a favor for a friend.

Ennis wasn't sure what had given him the courage to actually send the postcard, it was a spur of the moment thing, he hadn't thought too much about it, which was good because he probably wouldn't have sent it if he'd run it over in his mind too much. He'd decided that a postcard would be the best thing, wanted it to have some sort of meaning. He wanted to tell Jack that he missed him, and though he may not have come to terms with what the story said and what he'd been feeling, he was willing to overlook it to see him again. He _needed_ to see him again. He'd finally understood that their friendship was definitely more important than his pride.

And now he wasn't sure if he was coming. He'd thought he'd maybe get a postcard back, or a phone call, or something, but there was nothing, and Ennis was too chicken shit to pick up the phone and call him. He'd found his number, went to the library just like Jack had said _he'd_ done, and looked up his address and phone number. He'd hoped he'd gotten it right, there were several John Twists, but only one lived in Childress. What if it was an old address?

He shook his head. He didn't think so. He'd checked, and it had been the most recent copy of the phone book the library had (if 1998 counted as recent). Jack had mentioned moving several years back, but not any time recently, so he assumed it was up to date. Ennis didn't figure that was the problem. No, if Jack wasn't coming, it was because he didn't want to. Ennis had said horrible things, and now he couldn't take them back. Maybe friendship wasn't as important as pride to Jack.

Ennis stood from his spot on the couch, half empty cup of coffee, now cold in its mug, still firm in his grasp. He shuffled into the kitchen to dump the cold coffee down the sink, and he checked the clock on the microwave. 8:30.

_"Maybe he's still coming. Maybe he's only a little ways from the house right now, might've driven all night."_

Ennis hoped that was the case, but figured it wouldn't do any good to sit around and think on it too much. He resigned himself to take a shower, figured the water might wake him up a little, clear his mind, and maybe soothe the slight ache he felt in his groin.

* * *

Jack was flying down I-25. He had just connected with the interstate from US 87, and was about to cross the New Mexico border into Colorado. It was 10:38 and he still had more than half the trip ahead of him. He could make it in about six hours if he drove like a bat out of hell. And that's about how he felt.

He had the windows down, and the air-conditioning turned off, even though it was over a hundred degrees out. But the whirring wind and the sweat collecting around the collar of his shirt kept his thoughts from wandering, and kept his eyes locked on the road. There was a tidal wave of fatigue lurking over his shoulder, ready to consume him if he let it, but he couldn't do that. He had to keep going

Friday around 12:30, Lureen had come home (she'd packed the night before Jack had found), and then they'd left for Dallas. They'd taken separate vehicles (at Jack's insistence), so he could leave the next day after the barbeque. Bobby drove Lureen, which was perfect really, for both of them, because Jack didn't think he'd survive a few hours of such close quarters with his wife, and with Bobby, Lureen would be able to talk business till the cows came home, where as Jack would have just tuned her out. And by himself, at least he could have time to think. The hours had ticked by painfully slow, and he was antsy as hell, because he was loosing time.

They'd gotten to Dallas in time for the dinner, which had gone exactly as Jack had predicted, a few hellos, some pseudo-friendly banter, then down to business, and as usual after all the business had been covered, drinks and more pseudo-friendly banter. Jack had been day dreaming the whole time about how he could possibly fashion a noose out of his dinner napkin or what would happen if he just stood up and ran screaming from the restaurant. Jack had done neither though, because he figured it wouldn't leave McGuire with a very good impression and then he might go back on the merger.

After a nearly sleepless night, Jack was dragged to a picnic thrown by the McGuire Tractor and Farming Inc. in celebration. The food was decent, but the whole while all Jack could think was how soon he'd be gone, free as a bird, starting his long journey back to the one he loved.

He'd wanted to leave straight from Dallas, but Childress was on the way, and it would take him about four and a half hours to get there. By then it would be evening, he'd have to stop to sleep on the way, so why not get it over with? He was eager as hell to get to Riverton, but he knew he'd need some rest if he was going to make the long trek to Wyoming in a day. As much as it pained him, he decided he'd stop at his house first.

He'd been planning on calling Ennis when he got back, to tell him he was on his way, but when he'd been about ten miles out of town, he'd gotten a call on his cell phone (which he'd forgotten he'd even had with him) from Marla, saying she'd heard he was coming home early so was wondering if he could watch Eliza for the evening because she'd gotten a call from her sister asking her to come visit. Jack, of course, had agreed, but silently cursed Marla for having to go out with her sister. He'd gone straight to Bobby's house and had sat watching reruns of "Are You Afraid of the Dark" with Eliza until she'd fallen asleep on the couch, her little thumb tucked in her mouth—a habit she still had, even though she talked of being a big girl so much.

Marla hadn't gotten back until nearly one in the morning, and thus another day wasted without calling Ennis. Jack had headed back to his house, feeling exhaustion in his bones and had slept restlessly then woken up around five. He hadn't bothered unloading his truck, so he just got back in and started driving right after he got out of bed. He hadn't wanted to waste time calling Ennis before he left, wasn't sure if he'd be up (honestly though, it was _Ennis_!) and had decided to call him after he was on the road.

Jack looked back at the clock. There was no time like the present. He fished around on the passenger seat, underneath a bag of beef jerky and an empty water bottle and some maps, searching for his cell phone. His hand brushed it, and he picked it up, never taking his vision off the road. He let his eyes drift slightly while he dialed the number, then brought the phone to his ear and waited. His heart was pounding, anticipating the familiar voice. It rang a few times and then the answering machine came on. He hung up the phone and tossed it back onto the passenger seat.

_" I'll just call him a little bit later."_

Jack wasn't sure why he hadn't just left a message, but eventually decided that he didn't _really_ want to talk to Ennis. He was trying not to doubt himself, trying not to believe that maybe he was being too rash, that maybe Ennis didn't mean for him to come at all. There were a lot of questions trying to bud into his mind, and even the force of the dry desert wind, and the sweat trickling down his back couldn't keep them at bay.

_"Maybe he was jest bein' friendly and tellin' me what was new with him. Maybe it was jest supposed to mean that he wasn't angry anymore and wanted ta talk. Maybe it wasn't an invitation ta come at all…"_

What if Jack had gotten his hopes up for nothing, and came all the way to Riverton just to find out he was wrong and be sent back to Childress? Jack didn't want to know if that was true. It was odd, but he would rather continue his little fantasy that Ennis actually wanted him to come up to the mountains, that it was the sign he'd taken it for, than to be disappointed when he called and told to turn around and not bother.

_"But why in the hell would Ennis send ya a postcard tellin' ya he was goin' up ta the mountains if he didn't want ya ta come?"_

Jack didn't know, but he couldn't stop the little snake of doubt from slithering around in his brain. Jack sped his truck up to ninety and gripped the wheel a little tighter. He was coming up to Walsenburg which meant he was only about four hours to the Wyoming border, which meant he wasn't too far from Ennis.

* * *

5:45. Ennis had been pacing around the room and was now slumped on the couch, eyes closed, beer in hand. He was completely packed, had been since the evening before, the truck was loaded, the food he'd gone out earlier in the day to buy was all sorted, and to top it all off, Ennis had put on his best shirt, not sure why, but felt like he wanted to look good when Jack arrived. If he ever did.

Ennis had planned on leaving early that morning, figured Jack would have arrived the night before, or at least called to tell him when he was coming so they could meet up there, but none of that had happened and now the clock's arms were spinning, the minutes stretching into hours, the sky getting darker and darker, and Ennis getting surer and surer that Jack wasn't coming.

_"No word from him. No sign a' him."_

Ennis sat there a while longer then decided that maybe he hadn't gotten the card after all. He sat up and set the half empty beer bottle on the floor next to the couch. As much as he didn't want to, he decided he needed to call him, just to make sure. He had to know.

Ennis stood and walked into the kitchen, picked up the phone and dialed the number he'd found in the phone book. He waited while there were several clicks and buzzes and then finally ringing. He hated calling long distance because the fees were pricey, but this was important, more important than his tight pocket.

There were six rings and then an answering machine picked up. It was a woman's voice, and Ennis figured it was Lureen.

"Hello, you've reached the Twist residence. We're not home right now, but leave a message at the beep and we'll get back ta you as soon as possible."

There was a long beep, and Ennis considered saying something, then hung up forcefully. He had to talk to him; he couldn't just leave a message. Ennis decided that calling had been a stupid idea anyway and went back into the living room.

He started pacing again, walked from one window to the other, glaring out at the empty street, like a restless lion in its cage. Pacing wasn't doing him any good though, so he sat back down on the couch, ran his hands over the cushions on either side of him, trying to imagine the heat that had been there a few weeks before.

_"Can't believe we were so close…so close and nothin' happened."_

They were together for a brief time, yet they weren't really, at least not the way the story had portrayed. They probably could have been together that way, but Jack had never made a move, and of course Ennis would _never_ have done that. Maybe he would have gone along with it after it had been started, but he'd never have initiated it. Ennis took in a deep breath. He wasn't sure if he could initiate it now, either, hell, he wasn't even sure if that's what he _wanted_. An image of sleeping in the tent with Jack, butted up close to him, reaching back and grabbing his hand and then placing it on his erect cock, entered Ennis' mind. He felt himself immediately harden and a little blush rose to his cheeks. He curled his hands into fists.

_"I'm not no queer."_

But what had Ennis expected? What were his motives to want Jack to come camping with him in the mountains? He didn't know, not really, he could almost touch the answer, could feel it just a little ways ahead of him like a blind man might reach out in unfamiliar surroundings. But the answer was a scary one, he _did_ know that, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to face it. All he did know was that he had to see Jack again, had to do _something_.

Ennis stood again, walked over to the window where he'd first discovered the book and held open the blinds so he could see more clearly. The street was empty—no surprise there.

_"He's not coming."_

Ennis took a step back from the window, felt like he was sinking little by little into the carpeted floor.

_"It was a stupid idea. I shouldn't a' sent the postcard in the first place. Either that or I should've come right out and asked him ta come."_

He turned around and grabbed his keys, his hat. He was tired of waiting. It was already a little past six, and if he was planning on going up to Brokeback he figured he better get a move on. Didn't want to have to set up camp in full darkness.

* * *

The sun was starting to make its downward journey into the west. Jack had just gotten to Riverton, and was speeding furiously down the narrow streets, even though they were all marked with a 35-mile per hour speed limit. He passed the little Laundromat that marked the street Ennis lived on and made a hard right. He drove another block and then there was the small white house, exactly as he had remembered it. It suddenly felt like he'd never left.

He pulled his truck up to the curb and dashed out, running up the drive. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw that Ennis' truck wasn't there.

"Goddamnit!"

He stood still, took in several deep breaths. Ennis had left already.

"Gotta make sure." He muttered to himself.

He wiped drops of sweat that had collected on his upper lip away with the back of his hand and headed up to the door. He wasn't going to let himself in this time, felt like it would be inappropriate, since he still wasn't sure what was going on. He climbed the small front steps and rang the doorbell. He waited. He pounded on the door with his first. He waited some more. Nothing. No sign of life, no Ennis.

"Shit, shit, shit, and fuck ta boot!"

Jack turned and sat down hard, hands coming up to support his face. What was he going to do now? He hadn't made it, Ennis had left with out him, and now he was sitting at Ennis' front door like a lost little boy. He felt anger and disappointment rise in his chest and he kicked the concrete step he was sitting on with the back of his heel.

"Why does everythin' I do go wrong?" His voice was loud, a little hysterical.

_"I can't never do anythin' right. What the hell is wrong with me? Is God jest having a little fun and games?"_

Jack looked up at the sky and opened his arms, as though inviting a fight.

"Well come on then, big guy! Don't stop now! Let's see how bad ya can fuck up my life!"

He sighed and let his head fall back into his right hand. He rubbed sweat from his left palm on his jeans.

"And now here I am talkin' ta myself like a crazy sonofabitch. I think ya need therapy Jack. Oh really? Yes, I do."

He started to laugh, but soon his laughter died out, turned almost to a moan. He'd blown it, come all this way, and blown it. He should have called. He should have done something, _anything_, to keep this from happening, to tell Ennis he was on his way, to wait for him, despite his goddamned fear.

_"Damn it all to hell. I'm such an asshole. I can't believe he left without me."_

But he could believe it. Ennis probably had no idea he was coming. If only the post card had come sooner. Ennis had sent it too late, or there was some sort of trouble with the delivery. Anything to keep Jack from him, right?

Suddenly he stood up and walked back to his truck. There was determination in his stride and his face was set, jaw locked.

_"I don't care. I don't care. I'm goin' up ta Brokeback anyway. Maybe he'll be there, maybe he won't, but I have ta know. I can't risk the chance of missin' him completely."_

He got back in the truck and turned on the ignition.

* * *

It was after nine when Jack started seeing the familiar signs for the Grand Teton National Park. He'd been slightly unsure about where he was going, but had found it was fairly simple after he'd remembered that Ennis had just taken US 26 from Riverton. After that it was a straight shot to the Tetons. One and a half hours later, and here he was. It was dark, not pitch black like it would be in a little bit, but it was definitely getting shady. Jack was still able to recognize the turn off when he saw it, though.

Around him all was still, he had his windows cracked and the radio was shut off, all that could be heard was the gentle whipping of the wind and his own heart beating in his ears. He turned onto a small path, and then his truck was heading up and up, the brush starting to close in on him. He could hear the branches scraping against his smooth black siding, but he could have cared less. An evergreen brushed past the window, and some pine needles were scattered onto Jack's lap and shoulder. The smell was intensely fresh, soothing.

Then, he saw it, just a few feet in front of him, a hulking metal object, stalled in the middle of the narrow path. Jack's heart leapt and he pulled in close behind the truck, turned off his lights and then the engine. He got out carefully, avoiding the pieces of forest that were jutting here and there, then remembered his bags, and reached back into the cab to grab them. At the last minute, he'd decided to bring a sleeping bag, just in case Ennis hadn't brought an extra one.

With the sleeping bag rolled and firmly in hand, and the duffel bag thrown over his shoulder, Jack tiptoed around the truck, discovered it was indeed Ennis' Chevrolet (though he didn't know who else's it would have been) and started walking. He had to stare at his feet, to make sure he wasn't getting off the path, but it wasn't too hard, because there was definitely a break in the forest, which Jack just assumed was the trail.

Fifteen minutes later, and he could see light ahead of him and hear the babbling water of the stream that ran close to the campsite. Jack felt like he was about to explode. He'd thought he'd missed Ennis, missed his opportunity, so he'd headed to this spot on a hunch, and somehow he'd been right. Jack could hear the crackling of the fire, but still didn't have a good enough view to see Ennis.

A few more steps and then, there he was. Sitting on one of the logs where they had sat that night four weeks ago. He had his back to Jack, his head was down, and it appeared he was stoking the fire. Jack inched closer and saw that there was no tent, not much of a camp set up, just Ennis, the fire, and the night. He had to swallow hard. Ennis was the most welcome sight Jack had ever seen. He took another step, and then froze, boot hanging in the air, not wanting to touch down and make any noise.

_"What if I have it all wrong though? What if he didn't want me to come? What then?"_

Jack didn't know what to do. He knew what he wanted to do, which was run up to Ennis and throw himself at his feet, tell him he was at his mercy (though Jack would _never_ do that). But what did _Ennis_ want him to do?

It was too late for any more thoughts, though, because Jack lost his balance and tripped, stepping down hard and snapping a branch. Ennis whipped around. He squinted and looked out into the darkness. Jack stopped breathing.

"Hello? Who's there?" Ennis stood, on guard.

It was now or never. Jack took a deep breath, then stepped out from behind the trees and came into the firelight like he was stepping onto the gallows, thousands of eyes locked on him, waiting for him to give his last words.

Ennis' took a step back.

"Jack?" His voice was strained, quiet, and full of…something. Amazement, probably.

Jack finally got his mouth to work and he swallowed again, not knowing what to say, not knowing what was expected.

"I'm sorry I didn't call."

Ennis, shock starting to fade, laughed slightly and stepped over the log where he'd been sitting, closing the distance.

"You got my postcard?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah. On Friday. I had ta go to a conference in Dallas, and I couldn't leave, I wanted to, I just couldn't till this mornin'."

They stood there facing each other, separated by only three feet or so, an air of amazement hanging heavy between them. Ennis took a step closer.

"I didn't think ya were goin' ta come. Thought maybe ya didn't want to."

Jack shook his head. "Nothing coulda kept me away."

Ennis smiled and silence fell upon them, the moon overhead, not quite full, but bright enough in the darkness, illuminating the two men.


	14. Chapter 14

"I didn't think ya were goin' ta come. Thought maybe ya didn't want to."

Jack shook his head. "Nothing coulda kept me away."

Ennis smiled and silence fell upon them, the moon overhead, not quite full, but bright enough in the darkness, illuminating the two men.

Ennis took a few more steps and bridged the gap between them, put his hands on Jack's shoulders, then wrapped Jack up in a large bear hug. Jack felt his heart stop for a moment, and his whole body went up in shivers. He dropped his duffel and his sleeping bag at his feet and tightened Ennis in his own grip. He grabbed at him fiercely, tugging at his shirt, wanting to pull him into himself completely. He was reeling from the full contact, an oasis after weeks spent in the desert with no hope for water.

Ennis ran his hands up and down his back and then he released him, pulled away slightly, looked Jack in the eye. They were still touching, but there was enough distance between them for Jack to start to feel the cold again. Ennis said nothing, but Jack couldn't help but stare at his lips, he wanted his mouth badly, wanted to feel it touch his own, feel his hot breath, and wet saliva, knew that if he did, he might die right there and go to heaven. Ennis held him close for a moment longer and then pulled away completely, took a few backward steps.

And then they weren't any farther than they had been before, no bridges burned and no trekking backwards, it was as though the embrace hadn't even happened. They stood there awkwardly for a moment, neither knowing what was to come next. Ennis shuffled his feet around, kicked a small stone.

"I'm glad yer here."

Jack licked his lips, still imagining the taste of Ennis. "Yeah."

Ennis raised his head. "Um, ya wanna sit down? I jest started the fire ta make some dinner. I know its late n' all, but I haven't gotten around ta eatin', took me a while ta make some sparks in the fire pit."

Jack nodded and grabbed his bags, still unable to speak from the intensity of their embrace. Ennis returned to the log he'd been sitting on and Jack set his stuff near an adjacent log, then sat down. He stared at Ennis while he pulled out two cans of soup from a little canvas bag at his feet. He struggled opening the cans with the can opener, eventually got them off, and set them on the grate over the fire to heat up. He turned to Jack, noticed his blatant stare.

"What?"

Jack shook his head and looked down, busily wringing his hands between his knees. There was more silence, and then he looked around again, realized that all Ennis seemed to have with him was the little canvas bag that had held the soup cans. He finally was able to muster the courage to speak, but his voice was weak and quiet.

"Ennis…where, where's all yer stuff fer the camp?"

Ennis stopped stoking the fire, put down the twig he'd been using.

"Well, I wasn't so sure I'd be stayin' fer very long. Like I said, I didn't know ya were comin' so I figured I'd only stay one night up here, maybe jest sleep under the stars. Didn't want ta hall up more stuff than I would need."

"Ya brought two soup cans."

Ennis shrugged. "Well, I didn't know how hungry I'd be."

"How hungry are ya?" Jack licked his lips again, felt his dick start to stiffen at the double meaning he had intended to make.

Ennis looked him straight in the eye. "Hell, I'm pretty damn hungry. But I s'pose I could share a little bit with _you_."

Jack's breathing became slightly labored, and he felt himself harden even more. He had to get control over himself. He still wasn't sure what was going on, he didn't know what Ennis had asked him to come for, and he couldn't let himself get all excited. It was so hard _not _be, though! He coughed a little to clear his throat.

"So we've got food, but no tent…I can stand that fer a night. Seems pretty nice out anyway, not too cold."

Ennis took a good look at Jack and frowned.

"Yer not wearing yer fancy leather jacket. Yer usually freezin' all the time, aren't ya cold in jest that shirt there?"

Jack looked down, realizing he really _didn't_ have his jacket on. He must have left it in his truck. He knew he'd brought it with him, but must have taken it off, what with the hot weather and not having the air-conditioning on. He felt the chill on his back and also realized that he _had_ been getting cold, had just been too distracted to notice. He hugged at himself, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Damn. Musta forgotten my damn coat in my truck. Shit."

Ennis stood up and sat next to Jack, slid in real nice and close, and put his arm around him. He rubbed his hand up and down Jack's arm vigorously.

"Better? I can give ya my coat if ya want."

Jack thought he might die. He wanted to kiss him bad, wanted to feel his warm skin against his, shirts thrown aside, pants thrown aside, just flesh to flesh. He sucked in a breath and turned his face to Ennis. They were close enough that he could have touched his mouth if he just leaned in the slightest bit…

Ennis removed his arm and pulled off his coat, distancing their mouths. He got his arms out of both sleeves and then handed the coat to Jack.

"Here. I don't need it. I must have thick skin or somethin'.  
Jack shivered a little, took the coat and slid it around his shoulders.

"Yer just used ta this, s'all. I been away too long. Got used ta that Texas heat n' humidity."

Ennis nodded and then moved back over to his own log. The soup cans were starting to bubble, so Ennis put on one of his gloves, picked one up and then handed it to Jack. Jack pulled the sleeve of Ennis' jacket down to cover his hand, and took the soup, then took the spoon that he was also holding out to him.

He ate quickly, despite the heat of the soup, and hungrily. That was another thing he hadn't realized; he was starving. He hadn't eaten all day, except for the beef jerky that he'd bought at a gas station when he'd been filling up. He'd just been neglecting _all_ of his bodily needs, it seemed. He finished the soup, it had been chunky potato, and then set the can down at his feet, looked over at Ennis who was still eating.

"So why'd ya bring two spoons then, huh?"

Ennis looked up from his food. "What?"

"Ya said ya only brought what was necessary. Ya brought two cans a' soup in case ya were real hungry, but why'd ya need two spoons?"

Ennis sat in silence, seemed to be running the question over thoughtfully.

"Wishful thinking?"

Jack laughed, finally feeling warm and more alive. He felt bad keeping Ennis from his own coat though.

"You sure yer not cold? Cuz I can jest deal with the chill, it's yer coat after all, don't wanna be greedy over here."

Ennis scraped around in his can with his spoon, took one final bite and then also set it down at his feet.

"Nah. I'm fine, honestly. I'd rather me be cold than you, anyway."

His comment went straight to Jack's heart. The idea that his well being meant something to this man…well, that was just too good to be true. He thought back, and realized that Ennis had always been there looking out for him. He'd had his back in the bar the first night they'd met, he'd had a ride for him, a roof for him when he had nowhere to go, he gave him food, he kept him warm. A rush of emotion came over Jack, and he took in a sharp breath. He didn't deserve this kindness from him, not after everything he'd done, the lies he'd told.

"Ennis, I'm so sorry 'bout all that's happened. Ya can't know how sorry I am. I never meant for it ta happen the way it did, I…"

Ennis held up a hand, stopping Jack's words. "Don't talk about it right now. Far's I'm concerned, it's no worry. We can talk 'bout that some other time, right now, I'd rather jest enjoy yer company."

Jack let his unrest settle back down and pulled Ennis' coat closer around him. He yawned, then stretched, shook his head slightly.

"Jesus. I'm beat. I think I may jest hit the hay. I haven't slept much in the past couple a' days."

Ennis nodded. "Yeah okay." He looked around. "I, uh…don't have no blankets here right now, unless I was ta go get some stuff down by my truck."

Jack shrugged. "Well I got a sleeping bag. I'll give ya back yer jacket, and…wait a minute."

He stood and grabbed the sleeping bag, unrolled it a little ways from the fire and unzipped it completely.

"Well, this here works like a pretty good blanket. It would be a little rough sleepin' on the ground, but we could be pretty warm with this over us."

Ennis stood too. "You mean, uh…lyin' together n' all?"

Jack looked around sheepishly. "Yeah, if that's not a problem. I mean _jest_ sleepin'. I don't mean…you know…"

Ennis nodded slowly. "Oh yeah, I know. Um…sure. Okay, we can give it a try."

They cleared a little spot big enough for the both of them next to the fire, Jack pulled out a couple of shirts so they could lay their heads down, and they both set their hats aside, got on the ground, and pulled the sleeping bag up over them. It was warm by the fire, warm next to Ennis' body, he wanted to curl up and wrap his arms around him, feel his heart beat, get all the warmth from him that he could get.

They laid there in silence, completely still for a couple of minutes and then Ennis turned on his side, back to Jack. He got himself comfortable and his breathing started to slow. Jack propped his arms underneath him, and then turned his face so that he was staring straight at the back of Ennis' head. He waited a few minutes and then felt like he couldn't stand it any longer, he had to know what had made Ennis send the card.

"Ennis? Ennis you asleep?"

There was a grunt and then a quiet voice.

"I almost was, until ya started talkin' ta me. I thought you was beat."

"I am, but I gotta know. It's been buggin' me since Friday…why did ya send the postcard? Why did ya invite me up here with ya?"

There was silence and then finally Ennis shifted, turned around and faced towards Jack. They were staring straight into each other's eyes now, completely level with each other.

"I don't know."

Jack raised his eyes brows. "You don't know why?"

Ennis shook his head slightly. He yawned and then laid flat on his back.

"I had ta see ya again. I got ta thinkin' on the book, and…I don't know…"

He turned away from him and curled himself up.

"Go ta sleep Jack. Yer tired, ya need yer rest. We can talk more tomorrow."

Jack continued staring at Ennis' back, then finally closed his eyes and drifted off.

* * *

Jack awoke the next morning to the sound of birds chirping and to the feel of Ennis' arm around him. It took a minute to realize what the weight on him was and where the warmth was coming from.

He'd been having a wonderful dream, he couldn't remember what it had been about, but he knew the way it had made him feel, and then he'd started to return to reality because he'd felt something pressed against the length of his body. He opened his eyes, and moved ever so slightly, still half asleep, when he realized that it was Ennis. Sometime during the night he had rolled over and curled up to Jack, thrown his arm over him.

Jack's heartbeat began to quicken at the feel of the warm body touching his. It was wonderful, and he wished that he could have laid there forever, either that or turned and wrapped his own arms around Ennis, but he had a feeling that this was a purely subconscious act, that if Ennis were actually awake, he wouldn't have been doing it. On that note, Jack was surprised he wasn't awake yet, had never known him to sleep longer than himself, but the steady breathing and motionless body next to him clued him in that Ennis was definitely still sleeping.

Jack wanted to just lay there an enjoy the quiet moment, but he was suddenly hit with the desperate urge to take a piss. He cursed his bladder, wished he could just ignore it for a while, but also didn't want Ennis to wake up and find them in that position. Jack sighed, made a mental note of how Ennis felt pressed against him, and began to carefully slide under Ennis' arm. It was a daunting task, trying not to awake the sleeping bear and he had to stop when Ennis mumbled something and started to stir. But then he was still again, and Jack knew that he was back asleep.

Jack stopped his attempts to escape momentarily, and turned to face Ennis. In sleep his face was gentle, all walls brought down, though he still had a slight frown line showing between his eyes brows. Jack was suddenly brought back to that one night when he'd been wide awake on Ennis' couch and had wished more than anything else to be able to see what Ennis looked like when he was asleep. And now here he was, lying next to him, bodies touching, his arm draped over him. Their faces were close, and Jack once again had the strong desire to reach out and touch his lips, but decided it wouldn't be right to do so when he was asleep, and so continued to attempt to slip out from under Ennis arm.

When he decided that Ennis wasn't waking up, and it wasn't working to try and slide underneath him, he gently lifted his arm and set it next to him, so he could roll over and stand up. Jack was stiff from the hard ground, and a little sweaty. The air was dewy and warm, and Jack's shirt and pants were slightly stained with the dirt that he'd slept on top of.

He rose carefully to his feet and walked into the woods a little distance so he could relieve himself. When he was done he zipped up and returned back to the makeshift campsite to find Ennis finally stirring and starting to sit up on his elbows. Jack smiled at the sleepy expression still thick on his face.

"Well good mornin' there cowboy."

Ennis looked in Jack's direction, seemed a little confused, then looked away, obviously trying to figure out his surroundings.

"What time is it?"

Jack shrugged, then walked to where he'd put his bag and picked up the watch he'd taken off and placed on top of the duffel.

"9:00. Jesus. I guess I really was beat, and looks like you were too."

Ennis stretched a little. "Don't think I've ever slept so well in my life."

"Even on the ground with nothing beneath ya 'cept a shirt under yer head?"

"Apparently so. I never woke up once. I usually wake up 'bout four or five times a night, never sleep so deep. Damn."

He stretched and yawned some more and then stood, walked over in the direction Jack had just been and also took a piss. Jack sat on the log, back to Ennis, shuffling his feet around in the dirt. He decided to make himself useful and got down on his knees to get the fire started. Ennis came back and helped.

"Thanks." Ennis warmed his hands in front of the now crackling and sputtering fire.

"No problem. Figured I should make myself useful or somethin'."

Ennis laughed. "I'm sure we can find some use fer ya."

Jack sucked in a breath and tried to smile, to just brush the comment off. He forced a chuckle, wasn't sure if Ennis had meant it like that, but it sure had sounded suggestive.

They were silent for a moment and then Ennis brought his fist down on his knee.

"Damn. I didn't bring any more food than the soup we had last night up with me. I guess we'll have ta head down ta the trucks and get the stuff. Probably bought time we set up camp anyway. Don't know if you'll wanna sleep on the ground again."

"I didn't mind."

"Well I didn't either. But a tent might suit us better if we're gonna be here fer a while."

"True enough."

Jack stood and began to fold his sleeping bag, while Ennis debated whether to douse the fire and restart it later, or to leave it.

"Should prob'bly douse it, don't ya think? We'll be gone over half an hour, what with it takin' fifteen minutes ta get down there and then fifteen minutes ta get back."

Ennis nodded, agreed, though grumbled about having to restart it, and then doused the flames with a bucket of water he'd filled the night before.

"Well let's get a move on. Got enough work ahead of us ta keep us busy fer a while." Ennis set the bucket down next to the smoldering remains of the fire and looked up at Jack. Jack just nodded and stuck his hands in his pockets.

_"And what happens when we're done with all the work?"_

He decided to worry about that when the time came and followed Ennis down the trail towards their trucks.

* * *

It didn't take long for them to get to Ennis' truck and collect the rest of the camping gear. Ennis carried the tent, his bag and sleeping bag, and dragged a cooler that had wheels behind him. Jack remembered to get his jacket out of his truck, and also carried the mess kits, the food, and a fishing pole and bate case.

"You brought fishing gear."

Ennis grunted and walked ahead of Jack equipment piled high. He looked a little like a walking sports store.

"Yeah, just figured we'd get bored with canned food n' all."

Jack shrugged and followed behind Ennis, the rest of the gear in tow. It was much harder than it had been before, making the climb with all the weight on his back and under his arms, even Ennis looked a little out of breath. He made a passing comment about how it would have all been easier if they'd had horses, but since Ennis sold his own two horses to live in town near Junior, it was all a lost cause.

"You ever rode a horse around through the mountains?" He asked Jack between deep breaths.

"Nope. I never came up ta the mountains that much. When I used ta come up with some a the rodeo folk, we'd just drive up and sit around."

Ennis shook his head. "Nothin' like it. I wish I coulda brought a couple a' horses up with me, but I long ago got rid a' my trailer, and I didn't wanna ask Stoutamire ta borrow anythin'. It's enough of a favor ta jest give me the time off."

They finally made it back to the site and immediately dropped their gear on the ground. Jack set to making some breakfast, and Ennis started to unfold the tent. Jack tried to keep from laughing as Ennis struggled to untanle the tent and get the stakes in the ground. He mumbled and cursed to himself while he was trying to get one of the plastic beams that supported one side to bend and connect into place, and then he bent it just a little too far and the beam snapped. Jack couldn't hold it back any longer and began to laugh his ass off. Ennis stood and glared at Jack.

"And what in the hell is so goddamned funny over there, huh? _You_ wanna take a try at this?"

Jack dumped the rest of the potato that he'd been slicing into the skillet and stood, made his way over to Ennis and the tent, laughter still heavy in the air.

He leaned over and took a look at the broken beam.

"Well, damn, Ennis. Ya broke it. You ever put this up before?"

Ennis grumbled and kicked at the ground with his boot.

"Nah. I haven't gotten around ta using it. Junior bought it fer me fer Christmas 'bout three years ago. I jest haven't gotten a chance ta get away and try it out."

"What a comfort. Thought ya knew what ya were doin'."

Ennis hit Jack hard on the arm and which just made him laugh louder.

"All right, all right. Seriously, though, you got an extra one a these or somethin'?"

Ennis looked around at the pile of beams at his feet.

"I sure hope so."

"Well jest hand me another one and we'll see if we're missin' one by the time we finish."

Ennis picked up a beam and handed it to Jack. Jack pulled the broken pieces of the last one out from the loops on the polyester material. He leaned down to fit the other piece in and saw that the basic frame was made of steel, but there were also the plastic parts that fit in. It was much like a puzzle, and Jack wondered why they didn't make clearer instructions for putting these tents together.

He bent the beam slightly and latched it to its connector at the top. Easy.

"How'd ya do that?"

Jack stood and shrugged. "I dunno. Wasn't that difficult. You were jest bending it too much."

"My ass."

"Well ya obviously were bendin' it too much, cuz now it's in three pieces."

Ennis frowned and gestured at the tent. "Ya have to, ta get it in there."

"I didn't have to."

"Shut up. Go finish breakfast or something, smart ass."

Jack laughed some more at Ennis' frustration and walked back over to the sizzling skillet. He finished breakfast in a couple of minutes, and by then it seemed like Ennis had gotten the tent under control.

"Give it a rest fer a minute and come have some a' my fine cuisine." Jack yelled over his shoulder in Ennis' direction. He heard another loud snap and then a "Goddamnit!"

_"Guess he don't have it as under control as I thought."_

Ennis stumbled over towards the fire and the logs and sat down, cradling his hand.

"Stupid damn tent. That thing's a menace. Nearly took off one a' my fingers."

Jack chuckled, but bit his lip when Ennis gave him a look.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Jest wanna get that fuckin' tent built soon as possible, get it all over n' done with."

"Fine with me."

Jack served Ennis two eggs mixed with the potatoes he'd cooked on a plate and handed it to him. He'd also made coffee and Ennis gratefully accepted a full cup. They ate in silence, both greedily gobbling the food, which wasn't bad as far as Jack's cooking went. Ennis set down his plate when he was done and took a long sip from his mug.

"Ya know, you make a pretty decent cup a' coffee."

Jack just shrugged. "I guess. It's not that great, but I been livin' with it fer 48 years or so now."

Ennis took another sip and nodded his approval.

"Not bad."

"I'm glad ya think so."

They smiled at each other and then finished their coffee. Ennis took their plates and cups over to the stream to wash them out.

"Maybe you could take a look at that tent, see if ya have more luck than I did." He said, crouched down by the water.

Jack figured that was a fair idea and walked over to where the tent was sitting, half constructed. Fifteen minutes later he had it completely built, no beams missing surprisingly, (apparently there had been exactly two extra ones) and staked to the ground.

Ennis whistled. "Damn. You are jest full a' surprises, Twist."

Jack stepped back to admire his handy work. "Ain't that the truth."

They stood there for a minute looking at the tent, Jack finding the thought of them sleeping side by side in it slightly promising and slightly awkward. Awkward because he still wasn't sure what Ennis felt about the whole deal. Jack looked over at Ennis to find him gone; he was rooting around the pile of gear, looking for his duffel and his sleeping bag. He found it, carried it over to the tent and dropped it inside.

"You might wanna do the same, jest in case it rains a little later."

Jack nodded and grabbed his own things, placed them inside the tent. The area inside was large enough for two people to sleep comfortably, and Jack couldn't help but feel extremely excited, despite the fact that he still was unsure about Ennis' feelings. He found himself wishing more than anything else for night to fall again, but he knew that they had things to cover before (_if_) anything else could happen.

Ennis set the cooler near the tent, and then pulled out a couple of cases of beers that were not chilled and put them in a bag, along with the rest of the eggs, and tied one end of a rope to a tree, the other to the bag and let them soak in the cold mountain stream. Then both men chopped some firewood, put one pile under a plastic cover next to the tent, and put the rest in a rain proof bag, hung it in a nearby tree. It looked like they were all set.

They stood looking around at the campsite, hats tilted back on their heads, jackets long before abandoned, sleeves rolled up, admiring their hard work. Jack wiped some sweat off his forehead with the back of one dirty hand.

"So what now?"

Ennis bit at his bottom lip, then brought one hand up to shade his eyes, squinted, and looked off into the distance. He was silent for a moment.

"How 'bout we go fer a hike or somethin'?"

Jack scratched the back of his head and looked down, nodding while he tossed the idea around. He was already beat, but he figured that Ennis might want to have some quiet time, and walking would probably be the best thing to clear his mind.

"All right. Sure. Let's go then."

They cooled off a little at the stream, refreshed their faces from the sweat, then grabbed a couple water bottles and placed them in their jean pockets. They didn't have many conveniences, were certainly roughing it, but Jack wouldn't have had it any other way.

* * *

After walking for about an hour through the woods, on the trail that continued beyond their campsite, the two men came to a slight clearing. There were some fallen trees that made for good seats and where the forest parted, they could see a steep drop off and beyond it thousands of pines and a clear view of distant Teton peaks. The sky was clear, not a cloud in sight, and the air was warm, but not too hot in the shade from the trees.

Jack sat down on one of the stumps. He was relieved to be able to stretch his legs out and let them rest. He took his hat off, set it down next to him and wiped more sweat from his forehead.

"Jesus, Ennis. I must be outta shape. I guess that's what I get sittin' round the office or lazyin' around the house. I need ta start exercisin' or somethin'."

Ennis sat down on a log near by and looked out towards the view of the distant mountains. Jack followed his gaze.

"I'll tell ya, though. I certainly do miss this. It's great up here. I get so tired of fuckin' Childress, I could jest pack up and leave and never go back. It's dead out there. Everythin' is."

Jack thought about his life with Lureen and his job and the people he knew. All completely tied up with making money, and competing, and being unhappy, not a one of them interested in really living. All dead. All except his granddaughter Eliza. She was definitely an exception to the rule.

Jack was stirred from his thoughts when he noticed Ennis' heavy stare had shifted over to him. Jack matched his gaze. They were silent for a minute.

"Jack."

"Yeah?"

Ennis looked away again, down at his feet.

"I wanna apologize fer the things I said ta ya last time."

Jack sucked in a deep breath. So Ennis had wanted to take a hike to get things off his chest.

"Ennis ya don't need ta—"

"Please let me say this. I'm not too good with words, and if ya try n' stop me, I probably will. I need ta say this."

Jack shut his mouth, clasped his hands together between his knees, looked down.

"I was real angry with you fer a while. And when ya came upon me, well, I didn't know what ta think. I was confused more n' anythin' else. Anyway, I shouldn't have said what I did to ya 'bout wishin' I'd never met ya and never taken ya up here."

Ennis stood and walked over to where Jack sat, stopped about two feet in front of him. Jack tore his gaze from his hands and slowly looked up at Ennis, there a similar expression on his face as he'd had the first night they'd been up there, eyes like fire.

"I shouldn't have said it cause I didn't mean it. Bringin' you here's one a the best things I ever done."

Jack's heart expanded and he stopped thinking. He let all his inhibitions fly off to wherever they pleased and followed his instincts for once.

In one swift motion he was on his feet, had taken Ennis' face in both his hands and brought their lips together, knocking Ennis' hat to the ground. He didn't pull back like Jack might've thought, instead, he leaned forward slightly, moaning a little as he let his mouth open, inviting Jack's tongue to enter. Ennis brought his own hands up and grabbed gently first at Jack's neck, and then also rested on either side of Jack's face. Jack felt Ennis open his mouth a little more and then felt his tongue touch his, felt it lick a little at his lips, and then start to explore his mouth. Jack ran his right hand from Ennis' cheek down his chest and then eventually around his waist, clutching at the back of his shirt, pulling him closer to him, trying to keep his knees from giving out from under him. Never had he felt anything like this, _never. _This was indescribable, a sensation completely new to him, stubble rubbing against his face, hot breath, all man, exhaling into his mouth. He thought he might have rocketed into the sky, if he hadn't been holding so tightly to Ennis.

All around was silence; it was as though the forest creatures were giving them this moment, if only this one moment, to just be completely together, to only hear the sounds of each other's breathing. The kiss lingered, and then deepened, becoming more frenzied, more passionate. Jack's dick was rock hard, and he could feel Ennis's pressed up against his leg. Ennis' hands snaked down Jack's back and pulled fiercely on his shirt, releasing it from his jeans. Jack wanted to kiss up and down Ennis neck, but he didn't want to separate their mouths, so great it was to feel his lips and tongue. He pulled out Ennis' shirt with his hands, and then started working open his buttons, starting with the one at his neck and making his way down, never pulling his mouth away.

Suddenly Ennis broke the kiss and stepped away, held the back of his hand to his mouth, eyes wide, chest heaving. Jack's heart was pounding a mile a minute, and he felt lost without Ennis pressed against him, tongue in his mouth.

"Ennis." He took in a deep breath, tried to get his voice back to normal, to ease the lust that was deeply woven into it.

"Ennis, what's wrong?"

Ennis took another step back and turned his face away, clenching his jaw.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Jack got closer, trying to shorten the distance growing between them.

"Sorry for what? Ennis, what are you sorry 'bout?"

He couldn't stand it any longer, and placed his hand on Ennis' neck bringing their faces back together, never tearing his eyes off his mouth. He wanted to feel it again, needed to. Ennis wasn't having it though, and pulled away, shoving Jack's hand aside.

"I'm sorry, Jack. I can't do this. I can't do this."

Ennis' voice trailed off, and he bent down, picked up his hat, and then backed away, eventually turning and walking quickly off the way they'd came. Jack stood where he was, still incredibly aroused, trying to catch up with what had just happened. He felt terrible. Horrible. Nothing could compare to it.

"_The highs and lows of Jack Twist. One minute sailing with the birds, the next face down in the mud chokin' on worms."_

He ambled back over to a random log and collapsed into a sitting position. He felt like he'd just been kicked in the face by a horse.

"Shit."

He sighed, looked down at his hands, and then up and outwards towards the snow covered peaks.

* * *

It was close to dark by the time Jack started heading back to the campsite. The entire afternoon, he'd wandered around the trail, deep in his own thoughts, not sure what to do, and not sure if he could return. The kiss had been like some sort of dream coming true, it had been to good to be real, and not surprisingly, Ennis hadn't been able to do it, he'd run away in fear, which Jack supposed meant he didn't want to have that sort of relationship after all.

_"But would it have lasted that long if he hadn't?"_

The kiss had lasted a while and had been a far cry from chaste, so…that meant Ennis _was _interested, right? Jack sighed. He was more confused than ever, and walking around in the woods wasn't doing a thing for him, except aiding in his anxiety.

So once darkness began to fall he knew that he had to go back, face his "fears" whether he wanted to or not. It took him a little while to get back to where the tent was set up—he'd wandered farther away then he'd thought—but after a little while he could once again see the outline of the tent and the roaring fire through the trees. He got closer to the camp and saw that Ennis was nowhere in sight.

_"He couldn't have left. All his stuff's still here, and there's a fire going, even Ennis wouldn't have left that burning."_

He took a few more steps until he was no longer standing amongst the trees and sure enough there was no sign of Ennis. He walked towards the fire and looked around. He heard some rustling to his left and suddenly realized that Ennis was already in the tent.

Jack sat down on one of the logs and stared into the fire.

_"Jesus. He's in the tent. What do I do now? Go inside? Sleep out here?"_

Jack turned and gave the tent a long, hard look. He wanted to go inside, didn't want to sleep out by himself, but wasn't sure if he was welcome or not. Jack sat where he was for a few more minutes, staring into the fire, mind working busily. In the stillness he could hear the noises of the nighttime animals, howls and chattering, and clacking and buzzing from the cicadas. The stars were getting brighter as the darkness got darker, and Jack was struck by the beauty of the mountain all around. The air was also getting cool, and Jack was felt the cold stronger the longer he sat there in stillness. He looked around for his jacket and remembered that he'd put it in the tent.

He sighed. So now he had to go in the tent, at least to get his jacket. The need for warmth finally shook him from his motionless reverie, and he stood slowly, making his way towards the tent, hesitant, afraid. At the last moment, Jack took off his hat, some remembered teaching from his mother, and bent down at the entrance. It was unzipped, not closed against him, and the light from the fire allowed him to see a slight outline of Ennis, flat on his back, one arm under his head, staring straight at the ceiling of the tent. Jack stuck his head in slightly and looked up, seeing that there was a mesh skylight so the stars could shine through. He looked back down at Ennis and cleared his throat slightly, letting his presence be known.

Ennis looked his way, not a sign of surprise on his face, and slowly sat up on his elbows.

"Left yer jacket in here."

"Left my jacket in here."

They'd said the words at the same time and both laughed at their fumble. Jack eased farther into the tent, until he was completely inside, fear and hesitation left behind with the sight of Ennis laying in front of him. His desire for the man returned immediately, but there wasn't the usual urgency that came with it, an odd sense of calm was settling in his stomach.

Ennis reached behind him and to the side to grab Jack's coat. He extended his arm towards Jack, coat in hand.

"Here."

Jack grabbed the jacket, but didn't let go of Ennis hand. He moved in a little closer. Ennis tensed slightly.

"Jack…"

Jack set down the coat and closed the distance between them, until they were once again close enough to kiss.

"It's all right, Ennis. It's all right." The words were a low whisper, too quiet for any other being to hear, only meant for Ennis. They were still for a moment like that; Ennis propped up on his elbows looking up at Jack, Jack on his knees bent down towards Ennis.

Then suddenly, Ennis grabbed Jack by the back of the neck and brought his face down to his, meeting his mouth in a slow closed kiss, just lips, pressed together, a silent acceptance. Jack touched Ennis' cheek and then deepened the kiss, lowering himself down onto Ennis as he slowly laid flat. Jack repositioned himself, so he was no longer on his knees, but on his side still partially on top, never letting their mouths separate.

He returned his hand to the buttons at Ennis' neck and began to slowly undo them. Ennis broke the kiss again, and Jack was worried for a minute, but it was only to look Jack in the eye. Jack did the same, stopped his unbuttoning, and met Ennis' gaze.

Their eyes locked and Jack thought maybe his heart stopped beating. Ennis' eyes were deep, dark, not on fire like they had been before though, they were open and full of something the Jack had never seen there. He brushed his thumb across Ennis' cheek, causing him to smile. Ennis' smiles, though not an often occurrence, where infectious, and spread to anyone else close enough to witness them. Jack felt his face crack into a huge beam, felt like he was grinning like a fool, big enough for his cheeks to reach his eyes. It felt good, smiling like this, looking down at this man, felt better than anything else, and Jack decided right there that he never wanted to be anywhere but with _him_, seeing his smile.

Ennis reached forward and kissed the side of Jack's face, made a sloppy trail to Jack's neck and began to suck at the skin below his ear. Jack's grin immediately vanished, and he was once again filled with desire, desire so strong for the man underneath him that he thought he might go up in flames. His whole body was on fire, it seemed, and he wanted more than anything else to rip of his clothes and feel his body pressed to Ennis', skin to skin. But he wanted to go slow, so he pushed away that thought, and continued to unbutton Ennis' shirt. When he got it open, he ran his hand down his chest, leaned over to kiss him right at the collarbone, then down a little farther, then down a little farther. Ennis leaned his head back all the way; let it hit the ground, let out a little moan. The moan sent shivers down Jack's spine and he smiled, knowing that he was doing something right.

He continued to kiss down Ennis' stomach, until he got to the buckle of his belt and his jeans. He stopped put one hand on Ennis' stomach and then looked up at his face. Ennis lifted his head and looked down at him.

"Why you stoppin'?"

Jack was breathing hard and found it a struggle to get words out.

"You sure ya wanna do this?"

Ennis laughed and let his head fall back on the ground.

"I think I been sure since I first met you, jest didn't know it then."

That was all Jack needed, and he started to unbuckle Ennis' belt, undid the jeans and got the zipper down. He kissed Ennis' stomach again, and then let his hand slide into his jeans, felt his hand graze over hair and then found what he was looking for, hard and warm. He wrapped his hand around it and Ennis let out a cry, lifted his hips off the ground at his touch. Jack smiled again and pushed down his jeans a little so he could pull out his dick. Ennis helped him, wiggling around so he could get them off and Jack pulled them down below his knees.

Ennis' erect cock stood, uncircumcised just like in Jack's dream, but a little bit bigger than what he'd imagined. He stared at it, mesmerized, the first time he'd been this close to another man's penis. He moved his hand up and down slowly, and Ennis sucked in a few deep breaths, bucked slightly with the motion. Jack looked at Ennis' face, and saw that his eyes were closed tight, his mouth open, his chest heaving. It was wonderful, having this man, this strong, hard as nails man, lying underneath him, helpless by his touch.

He turned his attention back to his dick and leaned in, unsure how to go about what he intended to do, but knowing that he wanted to, knowing he wanted to give Ennis pleasure, to make him moan, to make him completely powerless. He got his mouth close to the head and stopped. He'd never thought this would have been something he'd want to do, would have never in a million years pictured himself with a dick in his mouth. Jack shoved that thought away and slowly brought his lips down to the head of Ennis' penis, kissed it light as a feather.

"Fuck, Jack! Fuck!"

Jack felt his stomach flip and his dick go rock hard at the sound of Ennis' voice saying his name in that desperate almost pained voice. Jack resisted the urge to reach down and touch his own penis, and kissed the head of Ennis' dick again. He let his lips linger there for a second and then he opened his mouth and sucked Ennis' dick in, wrapping his lips around its shaft, sliding his mouth down as far as it would go.

Ennis raised off the ground, pushing farther into Jack's mouth, and Jack almost choked, not actually ready to take it all the way in, not experienced. He pulled back a little, gagging slightly, and had to take his mouth completely away from Ennis, to wipe some of the saliva away.

"Sorry." Ennis' voice was strained and his eyes were still closed.

Jack laughed a little. "It's okay. I'm just not used ta this."

Ennis opened his eyes and lifted his head. "You don't have to…"

Jack shook his head. "I want to."

He pressed on Ennis' stomach, willing him to lie back down, which he did.

He brought his mouth back to Ennis' dick and slowly put his lips around it. He moved his head up and down slowly feeling Ennis start to move underneath him again. Jack suddenly remembered something from his dream, and brought his hand up and started to massage Ennis' balls.

"Jesus. Christ. Jack." Ennis took short frantic breaths between each word.

Jack felt Ennis' balls start to draw up, and then Ennis let out a cry and released. Jack wasn't sure what to do, and so he pulled his mouth away after Ennis already let go a little, and then got the rest of it all over his face.

Jack laughed, and wiped the warm sticky cum away from his mouth and chin, laughed because it was all so ridiculous, but somehow he didn't even care. He wiped it on one of the shirts that had been lying out, one they'd slept on the night before.

Ennis, who had been recovering suddenly sat up and grabbed Jack's face in both of his hands, kissed him roughly, stopping Jack's laughs and re-igniting the fury of his lust. He broke the kiss and looked Jack deep in the eyes. He started unbuttoning Jack's shirt, and Jack immediately started to undo his own belt buckle, the urgency to have Ennis' hands on him suddenly fierce. Ennis got his shirt off, and then kicked off his own pants, pushed them over into the corner. Jack tossed his shirt into the opposite corner, and then kicked his pants away. They sat there, legs touching, completely naked, just looking at each other.

Ennis kissed Jack, held him close, ran his tongue around inside his mouth, exploring and tasting. Jack thought he couldn't stand it anymore, needed to have Ennis touch him. As if on cue, Ennis pulled back from the kiss and looked down at Jack's erect cock. He looked back up to Jack.

"I don't know if I can do what ya did fer me. I don't know, but I wanna make ya feel good, like ya made me feel."

Ennis words made Jack's chest tighten and he sucked in a breath.

"I don't care. I jest wanna feel yer hand on me."

Ennis brought their lips back together in a furious, wet kiss, and he brought his hand down and wrapped his fingers around Jack. Jack cried out, breaking the kiss, but Ennis held on to his neck with his other hand, and wouldn't let their mouth separate. Ennis worked his fingers up and down Jack's stiff cock, slowly, then faster, and Jack was about to come, was so close, could feel the release building up, when Ennis stopped and pulled back.

Jack opened his eyes, and saw that Ennis was getting on his knees, his dick already hard again, his eyes dark with lust.

"I wanna try it like the book said. I wanna feel what it's like."

Jack's heart was beating faster than it ever had before, he thought he might go over the edge and come right at Ennis words. He took in a deep breath and nodded, turning over, getting onto his hands and knees, ready for whatever came next.

He felt Ennis lightly touch his hip, run his hand down around the curve of his ass. He closed his eyes, and felt sweat trickle down from his forehead. He didn't know how much more he could take. And then he felt Ennis brush the head of his dick up towards his crack, felt it press in for a moment and then pull away. Jack heard Ennis spit into his hand, just like in the book, and then he felt his dick position back where it had been and press in.

Jack cried out slightly and Ennis moaned.

"You all right?" Ennis asked in a light, strained voice.

All Jack could do was nod. He was all right, wanted to be all right, but it felt like he was being impaled by a large stake. It was painful, and Jack's took deep breaths, to keep the pain from consuming him, to keep him from telling Ennis to stop, because he didn't really want him to. And then he felt Ennis press up against something inside him, and Jack's eyes snapped open. It felt like lightening had hit, and his dick was once again throbbing with arousal.

"Holy, shit, Ennis, don't stop."

He had to grab at the material of the tent, to keep from collapsing on the ground. The pain was forgotten momentarily in the blinding pleasure. With each stroke, Ennis' dick pressed up against that one spot, and Jack felt wave after wave of unimaginable pleasure. He closed his eyes again and rocked, never feeling so alive, never feeling so aroused.

Ennis was moaning louder, and he grabbed Jack fiercely by the hips, pulled him backwards with each of his thrusts. Jack thought he would die. Ennis leaned forward, pressed his chest against Jack's back, their sweat co-mingling. He stopped his thrusts for a minute, had to rest to keep from coming too fast, had to support himself with one of his hands. Jack was panting, vision blurred, sweat pouring down his face now.

"Ennis, don't stop. You're almost there, don't stop."

Ennis picked up his pace again, faster this time, and Jack was muttering something, something he wasn't even sure of, just an incoherent babble that seemed to only way to keep him from going insane form the pleasure. Ennis grabbed Jack's dick in his hand and started to pump with his thrusts. Jack couldn't hold back any longer; he felt his balls draw up, felt his stomach muscles tighten.

"Shit, Ennis, here goes!"

He let out another choked moan, felt his whole body jerk and spasm from the intensity of the orgasm, and then came all over Ennis' hand. Ennis thrust in one more time and then Jack felt him release again, felt it inside him—he'd never felt anything like it.

Ennis pulled out and then they both collapsed, still breathing hard, covered in sweat. Jack's arms were pinned to his chest—felt like he'd just survived an atomic bomb—then finally felt his breathing come back to normal and began to regain his senses.

"Goddamn." Ennis' voice was raspy, right in Jack's ear because he was still lying on top of him.

Jack began to chuckle.

"What's so funny?"

Jack chuckle turned to laughter. Ennis got off him and laid down on his back, exhaling. Jack rolled over and scooted in close to Ennis, laid his head on his chest, calming down but shoulders still shaking from laugher.

"Jesus, what tickled _yer_ funny bone?"

Jack was silent for a second, and then erupted in hysterical hoots. Ennis couldn't help it, realized what he'd said, and laughed himself. The hilarity lasted for a few minutes, until neither knew what they were laughing about anymore. Finally it started to die down, and Ennis wrapped his arm around Jack, pulling him to his chest, kissing him on the top of the head.

Jack exhaled, his "funny bone" finally dieing down, and propped himself up on his elbow, looked into Ennis' face. He wanted to tell him how much he loved him, how he'd fallen in love with him that first moment he'd shown concern for him outside the bar that night, but the words didn't pass his lips. He just smiled and touched Ennis' face with the back of his knuckles.

He sat up, grabbed his sleeping bag, unzipped it and brought it back over them, laying his head in the crook of Ennis' shoulder. They laid there in silence, in peace, the only noise around the crickets and an occasional howl from a coyote, and the only light from the moon and stars, until they both fell asleep in each other's arms.


	15. Chapter 15

Jack awoke slowly. He was aware of the hard ground below him and the heat of the morning, and he could feel the sleeping bag had been pulled up to his chin. He stirred, and then pushed the thick cover down, immediately relieved when the cooler air hit his naked chest.

He stretched his arms up over his head and opened his eyes. It was bright out, but he could tell it was still early. There was one very important thing missing though: Ennis. Jack sat up and looked around, as though he might find him huddled in a corner or lost under a piece of clothing. He frowned, reached for his pants, and then was immediately reminded of the previous night. Blood rushed to Jack's face, and his stomach did a flip. Had it been a dream? Because it certainly was too good to be true.

The memory brought a slow sleepy smile to his face and he felt his dick start to tingle, so he wiggled into his pants as quickly as he could, not wanting to get distracted this early in the morning by an erection. Jack couldn't ignore the warm feeling he felt in his chest, though. He felt like a new man, brighter and more alive, happier than he'd ever been. He'd never known a person could be so happy; he was like a balloon that was either about to burst or simply float away. But Jack wanted neither to happen, not before he got to Ennis.

He threw on the shirt he'd been wearing the day before and crawled out of the tent, wincing slightly when he moved from the soreness he felt in his backside. He hadn't realized how sore he still was, had forgotten about the pain in the wonderful pleasure, but now it was back, not sharp…just a dull tenderness.

"_Well, damn, looks like we won't be doin' that again, at least not today."_

Ennis was sitting on one of the logs, cooking breakfast in the cast iron skillet, when Jack crawled out and then stood. Ennis looked up when he heard the rustling. At first he seemed slightly surprised at his presence, but his expression changed. He gave Jack a shy smile and looked back at the food he was cooking. Jack's own smile widened when he saw Ennis' shy look; he didn't think he'd ever loved him more than at that exact moment—cooking breakfast, clothes he'd been wearing the night before slightly askew, hair the slightest bit mussed, cheeks flushed—he was a vision.

Jack pushed away the urge to simply stand there and stare at him all morning and forced his feet to move towards the fire—not that they had to be pushed too much. He sauntered over to the log and sat down next to Ennis, close but not too close. He yawned slightly and stretched some more, raised his arms up above his head again.

"Mornin', cowboy."

Ennis gave Jack a quick sideways glance and then turned back to the food sizzling over the fire.

"Mornin'." He mumbled.

Jack smiled. He was really amused at how bashful Ennis was being—it was heart warming. He laughed and gave Ennis a playful shove, felt a surge of desire come up when he felt strong muscle underneath his fingers, but pushed it away—for now.

"Hey there, why so shy? Ya weren't shy last night."

Ennis eyes went wide and he shot Jack a surprised look.

"Cut it out." He gave him a shove back, slightly harder than Jack had done, but there was no anger behind it.

Jack laughed. "I'm only speakin' the truth, asshole." On the word "truth" Jack gave Ennis another shove, this one the hardest of the three. Ennis threw the fork he was using to stir into the skillet and turned full towards Jack.

"Oh yer getting' it now!"

He grabbed Jack by the shoulders and pushed him over the back of the log, pinning him to the ground. Jack started laughing, despite the small amount of pain he felt when they hit the ground, and started trying to free his arms so he could punch Ennis on the side, or at least grab him and pull him closer. They rolled around in the dirt, rough housing, acting like two boys rather than the middle aged men they were, until finally Jack pinned Ennis' arms above his head, held him to the ground by straddling his chest. They were both breathing hard, smiling hard.

"You give up? Or d'ya want me ta really inflict some sufferin'?"

"I let you win."

"Bull shit."

They looked at each other for a minute, the first time they'd done so since the previous evening when they'd been laying in each other's arms. Jack realized suddenly, the extremely suggestive position they were in, but surprisingly, didn't feel the immediate need to rip off his clothes. He enjoyed the simple relaxed contact they were making, the way they were behaving like two friends, two old friends. Jack was reminded, even though he'd known before, that Ennis really was the only friend he'd ever had, the best friend too.

At the same time, Ennis raised his head, and Jack lowered his, and their mouth's came together. It was a gentle, reassuring kiss, a kiss that said nothing had changed since the night before, or because of the night before. They were still the friends they'd been, and they were still the lovers. The kiss lingered for a minute, Jack opening his mouth, their tongues meeting, slowly swirling around each other. And then, with a slight lick on Jack's lip from Ennis, they parted and they were looking at each other again, smiling. There was silence for a moment and then Ennis lifted his hips a little.

"You're heavy."

Jack laughed and got off Ennis. "Well what'd ya expect?"

Ennis shook his head, still smiling, and then sat all the way up.

"Ya need ta brush yer teeth too."

Jack's eyes went wide. "Well aren't you jest full a' compliments today."

"Jest tellin' the truth." Ennis gave what could only be described as an evil grin, and Jack laughed hardly believing what he was seeing.

"Ennis Del Mar, you are one funny sonofabitch. And while we're on the topic, I should let ya know that yer fly's undone."

Ennis looked down, zipped up.

"And don't go thinkin' _you_ couldn't use a little minty fresh mouth wash as well. I was jest bein' a gentleman."

"Fuck you."

The two men laughed and sat down, each eager to eat.

* * *

Jack put down the plate that had recently held a good serving of eggs and canned ham, and leaned back against the log. He was sitting on the ground, legs stretched out in front of him, boots crossed at the ankles. He took in a deep breath, felt content now that his belly was full. Ennis was just finishing his own food (it always seemed like Jack ate faster) and set his plate down on the ground as well. He was sitting on the log adjacent from Jack, and was intently looking at him.

"You get enough ta eat?"

Jack smiled and patted his stomach. "Think so. But knowin' me, I'll be wantin' more in a little while."

Ennis laughed and took a sip of the coffee he'd brewed, balanced the cup on the log where he was sitting and then walked over to Jack and lowered himself next to him. He was looking at Jack's mouth.

"Been watching ya eat."

Jack smiled knowingly. "Oh yeah?"

"Makes me hungry fer somethin' else…"

Ennis cupped the side of Jack's face with one hand and pulled his mouth to his. Their lips came together as natural as anything, as though they'd been doing this for their entire lives. Jack snaked his arm around Ennis' waist, pulling him close, started to feel his desire build. Ennis held Jack's face in both of his hands, holding him there, not letting their faces come apart. He was kissing Jack urgently, like he couldn't get enough of his tongue, like he couldn't get enough of his lips. Jack's heart started racing, but at the same time, he felt like he was having his face eaten. He tried to speak, tried to tear his mouth away slightly.

"Ennis, Ennis…"

Ennis didn't stop, mumbled, "What?" into his mouth.

Jack brought his own hands up to Ennis' face, pulling him away slightly.

"Ennis, ya don't have ta attack me, here. I'm not goin' nowhere. Just take it easy."

Ennis was breathing hard, and looked away, down at the ground. Jack felt like maybe he'd offended him, and ran the back of his hand over his cheek.

"Just wanna go slow now, okay? I can barely breath when ya do that."

The truth was, Jack wanted to attack Ennis' mouth just as much, but he wanted to enjoy these moments, wasn't sure where they would go from here, and honestly, knew that if they took it much farther, Jack would be getting' into territory he wasn't so comfortable going, not after the previous night and with the soreness he still felt.

Ennis looked back at Jack, eyes full of some emotion, pain of pride, Jack wasn't sure.

"I just…I've never…" He looked away again, obviously struggling with his words, the fight inside him apparent from the clenching and unclenching of his jaw.

Jack grabbed Ennis' face between _his_ hands this time, and brought their mouths gently together, a soft consolation, a gesture to let him know that he understood, he understood what he was trying to say so he didn't have to say anything if he didn't want to.

"How 'bout we get cleaned up or somethin'. I'm feelin' pretty ripe. I haven't showered in a couple days, and we've been out here in the heat workin' n' all."

Ennis nodded, but didn't move, which was okay with Jack—he was hesitant to leave Ennis' touch also, felt warm and safe so close to him.

"There's a lake that connects ta the stream just a little ways north a' here. We could go there."

"Oh yeah, I think I saw that yesterday when I was wandering around…"

He stopped, not wanting to bring up the subject of _why_ he'd been wandering aimlessly for hours the day before. All was well now, and he didn't want to give Ennis any reminders.

Ennis gave him a knowing look and a soft (apologetic?) smile. He untangled his arms from around Jack and stood up.

"All right, let's get to it then."

Jack stood, slowly, nodding, and then proceeded to follow Ennis around making sure camp was all set and all their food was cleared, and the fire was doused, before they got some things and started out towards the lake.

* * *

While they walked, Ennis told him a little about the area.

"You been ta the Tetons before?"

"Yeah. A couple a' times. But not this area. We was more north when we went, up near the Montana border, near Lightening Flat. That's when I was with the local rodeo circuit. My daddy never took me up ta the Tetons, even though they were closer. He took me up ta the Bighorn's once when we were visitin' his brother out near Greybull."

He looked off in the distance, memories of his father spinning through his head. He shook them off and turned back to Ennis.

"Anyway. What were you sayin'?"

Ennis shrugged. "Wasn't sayin' anythin' important."

"Everything you say's important, cuz ya don't say much. So go on."

Ennis smiled at the man walking beside him.

"This area we're in, to me's one a' the best places in the whole Teton Range. It's unknown ta most tourists, only the locals know about it. Brokeback's jest one a' the mountain's out here, but it's still my favorite. Don't know why."

Jack was silent, was reminded of the story, knew they had to talk about everything, but didn't feel like bringing it up at the moment, wanted to just listen to Ennis talk.

"We're just a little ways from the Snake River Valley, and it's real pretty up there, but still…I think I like the quiet of this area. It's never occupied, it's peaceful, it jest…is."

Jack nodded, thought he understood what Ennis was trying to say. There was no fuss about this area, it was still outside the range of the main Grand Teton National Park, there were no signs of the outside world, except for the few old trails, and the abandoned campsite where they were staying, but even those had probably only been used by long ago cowboys on cattle drives or with herds of sheep.

A shiver went down Jack's back, as another reminder of the story struck him hard. He pushed it away.

"We almost there, Ennis? I don't remember walkin' this long yesterday."

"Yeah, I think we're just a few more minutes from the lake."

Ennis stopped. Jack was surprised by the sudden lack of movement at his side, so also stopped, looked back at where Ennis was standing with his head turned up, hands out in front of him in a hushing gesture.

"What is it?"

"You hear that?"

"No."

"Listen…"

Jack was quiet, didn't notice anything different at first, the only sounds around being the normal chatter of the woods. But then he did hear something, it sounded like running water, but it was rushing, not just trickling, not a stream. It sounded more like a raging river.

"Is it the river?"

Ennis shook his head. "Don't cut this far west. We musta gotten off the trail, musta passed the lake I mentioned."

Jack sighed. "Well I thought it felt like we'd been walkin' forever. Should we go back?"

Ennis was quiet for a moment longer, still listening intently, and then a huge smile appeared on his face.

"No this is even better. I remember seeing it on a map a long time ago, but I forgot 'bout it. Looks like it'll be new ta both you _and_ me."

He started walking again, heading west in the direction of the running water.

"Ennis, wait!" Jack called after him. "Where are we goin'?"

Ennis kept on; didn't turn around, but yelled back over his shoulder. "Waterfall."

Jack stood a moment longer, not sure if he'd heard what Ennis had said, then chased after him, not wanting to fall too far behind.

"Did you say waterfall?" He was panting from the near jog it had taken to catch up with Ennis.

"Yep. The Hidden Falls. I knew they were 'round this area, jest didn't think they were this close."

He turned and smiled at Jack, who could do nothing but smile back and pant. It was totally unbelievable. He hadn't even known there were waterfalls _in_ the Tetons. They'd always seemed like some fantasy from a tropical island. He'd never seen one before, and he'd never imagined bathing near one. It didn't seem real and he didn't think he'd believe it till he saw it. And then they were there.

They came to a clearing that led to a slight drop off, not too steep. Below them there was a water hole that opened up to a stream, most likely the stream that wound around the area, it's main source being the Snake River. But the main attraction was the cascading falls. It wasn't quite what Jack had imagined, though he hadn't been sure what to expect. When he thought of waterfalls he always pictured something like Niagara Falls or a lone stream spouting down the side of a tropical rock or something. Surprisingly, this fit in perfectly with their surrounding, didn't look out of place at all.

The falls went up about 200 feet, and disappeared into the thick veil of trees and the bulk of the mountain. It wasn't a straight fall though, it weaved and curved down through the evergreens at a slant, splashing over rocks, until the very bottom, where there was an overhang and the water poured into the pond. All was quiet except for the water, or at least nothing could be heard over the rushing noise. It was one of the most beautiful things Jack had ever seen.

He turned towards Ennis and saw that he was equally captivated with the sight.

"Last one in's a rotten egg." Ennis muttered, and then he took off down the rocky slope, hopping from foot to foot, sliding on loose dirt, and finally landing at the grassy bottom near the edge of the water and where he began stripping off his clothes.

Jack was awe struck, almost too shocked to move—but not quite. After a brief moment of hesitation, he took off down the hill too, a little slower, though trying not to be, trying to show he was feeling as reckless and fearless as Ennis, but at the same time not wanting to break his neck. He got to the edge of the water just at Ennis got his pants all the way off and dove in. Jack pulled off his shirt and hopped around trying to get his boots off. He unzipped his jeans, kicked them off and then finally mimicked Ennis' move and dove in headfirst.

The water was colder than he expected and it was a shock, making him gasp. He realized too late that gasping under water wasn't the smartest thing, and he inhaled what felt like a whole gallon of chilly pond water. He came up fast, broke the surface and immediately started coughing and choking. He felt a hand smack him on the back a few times and then he was spitting out what he'd inhaled. He coughed a couple more times, wiped his nose, and then turned to face Ennis.

"You all right?" Ennis had to talk loudly with the noise of the falls.

It took him a second to get his voice back, but he nodded, finally got his vocal chords to work.

"Yeah." He let out a weak laugh, then yelled back. "Guess I didn't expect the water ta be so cold."

Ennis backstroked away a little distance, never breaking his gaze from Jack's.

"It's not that bad. You'll warm up to it."

Jack ducked underwater, braving the chill, and then came back up, slicking his hair back from his forehead with his hand. He swam a little closer to Ennis.

"I can think a' somethin' that'll warm me up."

Ennis' face lit up in surprise and embarrassment, but Jack could see his words running through his mind, and then Ennis swam away. He got close to the falls, right next to the overhang where the water was streaming down into the pool, then stopped.

"Come over here, it's amazin'!" Even yelling, Jack could barely hear him, but knew he was calling him over.

He met Ennis in front of the falls, water misting and splashing into their faces. He realized that the water was fairly shallow by the falls, his feet easily reached the ground—he could feel the sand squishing between his toes—and then Ennis grabbed his arm and pulled him underneath the cascading water.

The rush of water falling down was intense and amazing. It was cold, but not freezing, and it soaked Jack's hair, sweeping it over his eyes. He tried to think, tried to see and hear and experience the sensation, but it was difficult under the forceful stream. After a few seconds he realized he was laughing, felt the laughter in his chest and the smile on his face, but couldn't actually hear the noise.

Suddenly he was being tugged by the arm again and then all he could see and taste was Ennis. His hands were on Ennis' wet chest, then running up his neck and over his cheeks, parting his hair, so he could touch his fingertips to his forehead. Ennis held tightly to Jack, held their bodies close, legs touching, dicks pressing into each other.

Jack slowed the kiss, lessened the intensity, Ennis following suit, until they were just pressing lips together and pulling apart, together, and apart. Finally the kiss ended, and Jack took a minute to look at his surroundings. They were directly under the overhang, inside a little rock cove. The rock was glistening from the constant moisture, and little clumps of moss clung here and there. It was quieter underneath the overhang, allowing him to hear his own breathing and Ennis'. He turned his eyes back to Ennis, saw that he'd had never stopped looking at him, and then brought their foreheads close together, keeping their eyes locked.

Neither one spoke, but words flew between them. Looks that told volumes, looks that expressed how they felt, even though they'd only known each other for a few weeks. Surprisingly, Ennis was the first one to break the silence.

"I wanted ta say sorry 'bout the way I was kissin' ya earlier, guess I got a little carried away."

Jack smiled, brought his hands up to either side of Ennis' face, to hold him close, foreheads still touching.

"No apology necessary."

"I've just…I've…"

"You don't have ta say anythin'…"

"I wanna say it. I'm afraid if I don't I never will."

Jack shut his mouth, ran his hands down from either side of Ennis' face to around the back of his neck, still holding tight, but giving him room.

"I've never felt…I dunno, I've never needed somethin' bad like this. I've never felt like I wanted to…ah, fuck it."

He looked down, but the words had not been lost on Jack. He tugged on Ennis' chin.

"Hey."

Ennis looked back up, meeting his gaze.

"I wanna kiss ya under the waterfall."

He led Ennis back towards the falling water, grabbed tight onto his hand, so he'd be able to find him in the disorienting rush.

Water pouring down. The roar in his ears. Hands on his face, and then the feel of lips, lips so fine and perfect, better than any woman's he'd ever kissed, on his. He couldn't hear anything; he couldn't see anything; all there was, was the feel of Ennis' lips, his hot breath and his tongue and the cold, cold water. Time stopped, his heart stopped, his breathing stopped, everything stopped except that kiss, that kiss that had so much behind it, that had the words Ennis had spoke and the words that he hadn't been able to say. It seemed longer than seconds, but seconds were all it had been, and then everything returned and Ennis was pulling them back into the cove.

"That water's pretty intense. Nearly stopped breathin'."

Jack nodded, still staring at Ennis' mouth. "Yeah."

It hadn't been the water that had made Jack stop breathing. He swam closer to Ennis and once more brought their mouths together, he couldn't get enough of Ennis' mouth, thought he'd never be able to get enough. He ran his hand down his chest, loved the feel of the wet hair under his fingers, and then let his hand go underwater, reached for what he'd felt pressing up against him.

He grabbed Ennis in his hand; his dick was surprisingly warm for the water being so cool. Ennis gasped and broke the kiss then looked Jack in the eye. Jack met his gaze and slowly began to pump his hand up and down, up and down. He saw Ennis' eyes go dull with sensation and he felt his own cock stiffen considerably. He kept his slow pace, though, and Ennis' hips started moving with the rhythm. Their eyes were still locked in place. Jack's heart swelled at the helpless expression on Ennis' face, he'd seen it the night before, and here it was again. It still amazed him; this tough as nails man was powerless at Jack's touch, the thought made shivers run up and down his spine.

"Jack," It was almost a whimper.

Ennis finally broke their gaze, closed his eyes, moaned, and let his head roll back. The sight of Ennis with his neck bared, glistening with water, moaning was too much, and he had to stop, get his breath back, get his senses back, before he could continue.

Ennis raised his head, saw Jack breathing hard in and out. Jack could feel Ennis looking at him and opened his eyes.

"Sorry." He started moving his hand again, but Ennis reached down and stopped him, wrapped his own fingers around Jack's, two hands holding his dick.

"This time, it's 'bout you, okay?"

Jack felt a new wave of fire go through his body, and then Ennis grabbed him gently by the shoulders and backed him up against the rock wall. Jack sucked in a breath when his skin touched the cold stone, but it wasn't a bad sensation, it only aroused him more.

Ennis kissed him on the mouth tenderly, then made a wet trail down his jaw until he reached his neck. He licked and sucked on one spot, right where Jack's neck and shoulder met, and at the same time he reached down and wrapped his own hand around Jack. Jack's breathing got heavy and fast as Ennis' strokes quickened and then slowed and then picked up again.

Ennis kissed back up his jaw until their eyes locked again. He removed his hand from Jack for a minute and positioned himself so that his dick fit right in next to Jack's and rubbed against his leg. He started to move his hips slightly, thrusting, rubbing his dick back and forth. He let out a moan and then took Jack back in his hand, his other arm pressed against the wet rock wall for leverage. Jack rocked in time with the thrusts Ennis was making with his hips. He wrapped one arm around his waist, making their connection tighter, hardly allowing room for the water, and then threw his other arm around his neck, pulling Ennis all the way against him. Jack pressed his face into the crook of his neck and breathed in his smell, took in the sounds of his breathing and panting as he thrust against him.

"Jesus, Ennis…" he moaned into his skin.

Ennis gasped and pumped faster, moving his hips with the time of his hand. Jack raised his head and bit Ennis earlobe, then licked down his jaw line, ending with his face back in the crook of his shoulder.

It was amazing. He felt Ennis all over him, like a blanket, felt his warmth, felt his breathing, could feel the beating of his heart against his chest. Jack clung tighter to Ennis, was squeezing his eyes shut, was about to come, could feel it, was moving his own hips with each pump, grinding into Ennis as best as he could.

"Oh, god Jack, oh god."

Ennis' voice brought him back to the moment, and he lifted his head, brought his mouth to Ennis', and then brought the arm that had been around his neck down to grab Ennis' hardness. Ennis shuttered at his touch and after a couple pumps of Jack's hand, came furiously, his whole body shaking. The sight of Ennis' eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a perfect circle, was too much and Jack let go too, letting out a cry, giving one more thrust of his hips.

They stood motionless for a few minutes, pressed against each other, catching their breath, allowing their surroundings and their senses to slowly return. Eventually, Jack ran both his hands up Ennis' back and tangled them in his hair. It was almost brown when it was wet, not as dark as it probably had been when he'd been younger, but still striking. He kissed Ennis' chin and then met his lips. Ennis wrapped his arms around Jack and held him tight in a fierce bear hug. Jack held back. Their mouths separated, and Jack's face found its place back in the crook of Ennis' neck.

For a few seconds the words, "I love you," were dangerously close to slipping out Jack's mouth. The phrase felt so natural for this moment, it told exactly what he was feeling, but…Jack was afraid of what might happen if he _did_ say them, was afraid he might frighten Ennis off, or worse, not hear them said back. He wasn't really sure about Ennis' own feelings, knew he felt something strong, but was it the same love _he_ felt? Jack couldn't be sure. He wanted to say yes, but he honestly couldn't be positive. But what, if not love, was it that had this man pressed against him, his arms wrapped tightly around his body?

"I think my fingers are getting' kinda pruney. We should probably dry off." Ennis voice was right in his ear, and sounded oddly tender for the words he was saying.

Jack just nodded and then pulled back. They kissed once more, quickly, but with no less feeling than the lingering ones.

The last cross through the waterfall was just as intense, rewetting their hair and refreshing their bodies after the sex. Then they were away from the cove and swimming towards the edge of the pond, the roar of the falls growing less overpowering the farther they got. They laughed when they got onto the grass and realized they hadn't brought anything to dry off with. So instead they found a couple rocks big enough to sit on, and laid themselves out under the sun to bake. Ennis grabbed the food he'd brought, had made them both two peanut butter sandwiches and also brought along a jar of Vienna sausages, two apples, and a couple of beers.

Ennis passed the food to Jack and they both dug in. It wasn't the finest food he'd ever had, but Jack still thought it tasted better than any of the stuff he'd had in fancy restaurants while out on business meetings. It was almost as good as Junior's home cooking—almost. He decided to tell Ennis that, and Ennis just laughed.

"Peanut butter sandwiches compared ta Junior's fine dinin'? No way."

Jack took another big bite of his sandwich and then continued talking, even though the peanut spread was sticking to his mouth and making his words hard to understand.

"Ah din't say it wuz behr. Jes close." He swallowed. "Maybe it's jest the atmosphere and the company that makes it so good."

Ennis smiled at him and they continued eating and talking. They talked like they did before everything had happened, before Ennis had found the book, and before he'd invited Jack up to the mountains. They talked about common enough subjects, both steering clear of anything that came close to their odd situation and relationship.

"Junior's had some good news. There's a possibility that they might have a little boy by the end a' this year."

Jack sat up and took a swig of his beer to clear his throat. "That's great! Fantastic! Is it fer sure?"

"No, it's still a maybe, but it's lookin' pretty good."

Jack shook his head. "I know Junior'll make a great mom. Congratulations, looks like you'll be a grandpa."

"Well, at least I'll _feel_ more like one by havin' a grandkid that's actually around."

Jack told Ennis about how they'd finally gotten the McGuire tractor company to merge.

"Is that good?"

"Yeah, sure, if ya care 'bout that sorta thing." He stretched and then scratched his head.

"I dunno. I'm getting' so tired a' that damned business. But it's got Lureen busy, which makes the both of us happy. The less time we have ta spend together, the better it is."

The talk of his marriage put a damper on their discussion and brought things suddenly, harshly to reality. Jack was having an affair. With a man. Like in the story.

_"Things jest keep gettin' closer and closer ta truth. How much more's it gonna get?"_

Jack suddenly thought on how Leroy had read the story, how soon the whole town may know, and he felt a huge fist of steel clench inside his stomach. This was no good, and he didn't want to have to face it, but he'd have to sooner or later, so why not make it sooner?

"Ennis there's things we need ta talk about."

Ennis was looking down making circles on the rock with his hand. He'd finished eating and was quiet, but finally looked up and met Jack's eyes.

"Yeah, all right. So talk."

Jack should have known that Ennis wouldn't be the one to start the conversation.

"I don't really know where ta start."

Ennis shrugged but kept quiet, leaving all the words to Jack. Jack took in a deep breath.

"Okay, what's goin' on? I mean, what is this between us?"

Ennis was silent.

"And what about the story? Aren't we…I dunno what I'm tryin' ta say." He paused briefly. "What's happenin' in the story is happenin' ta us."

Ennis rubbed his neck and looked over in the direction of Jack, but kept his gaze low.

"I don't think I care much about the story. I don't really like it, ta be honest."

"It's not really a question of likin' it…it's about us."

"No it's not about us, it's about two people that are similar ta us."

"But they've got our names and our lives!"

"I know that. But they're still different."

Jack was silent. He didn't feel like this conversation was going anywhere, and was starting to get annoyed.

"All right, fine they're different, but…are they so different _now_?"

Ennis was quiet for a minute. "I don't know what ya mean."

"Ennis!" That was it; Jack was pissed off. "What the hell? You know exactly what I mean, and I don't understand how ya can go from one extreme ta the other! Yer fuckin' confusin' that's what I think. One minute ya wanna tell me things cuz if ya don't yer afraid ya never will, and the next yer completely denyin' that there's anything goin' on here."

Jack sat up straight. He'd gone from fairly calm to seething in under a minute.

"Well, maybe I wasn't thinkin' straight then."

"So the things ya said, that was all jest a bunch of bull shit?"

Ennis shrugged and gave Jack a disinterested look.

"Wouldn't be the first time there was bull shit between us." His voice was quiet, but deadly, his words stabbed right into Jack's heart and twisted.

Jack was silent. "That was low, Ennis."

"Well, I'm sorry but it's the truth."

"You are a fuckin' asshole, did you know that?"

"I'm jest tellin' it like it is."

Jack couldn't believe that this was the same man that he'd spent the night with and then had made love behind the waterfall. That man had seemed too good to be true. Jack let out the breath that he'd been holding. So now it all came back to reality. Jack's voice was shaking. He was angry, but he was also extremely hurt. He made sure to measure his words out when he said them, so Ennis would know exactly what he was saying.

"So how is it, Ennis?"

Ennis stared down at the rock underneath him. "I'm not no queer."

Jack was silently nodding his head. He should have expected this; he should have known that it would come sooner or later. He thought he'd be prepared for it when or if it did, but he certainly didn't feel prepared at the moment. He was as angry as he'd been that one time they'd fought, the one time they'd come to blows, he tried to keep the anger out of his voice, tried to keep from yelling but it was no good.

"Well, that's jest great Ennis. In case you forgot, an hour ago we were in the water _fucking_, so ya better learn ta deal with that or move on!"

"I don't wanna talk about this. I didn't wanna talk about it ta begin with."

Jack hopped off the rock and stormed to the edge of the water where his clothes were laying, he picked up his jeans and put one let in, then the other.

"Ya know, at first I _did_ wanna talk about it, but I can see now that that was a big fuckin' mistake. So, I'm glad ya don't wanna talk! I could give a shit about what you think, right now. In fact, I wouldn't wanna talk to ya, if you were the last person on earth."

Ennis got off the rock, walked over towards Jack.

"That's real mature, Jack. Ya sound like a four year old."

Jack zipped up his pants, threw his shirt over his shoulder, not bothering to put it on.

"And you sound like a stubborn asshole."

He walked back the way they came and started making his way up the incline. Ennis followed him and grabbed his arm, gently.

"Come on, Jack."

"Leave me the fuck alone!" Jack pushed Ennis' hand away roughly and Ennis stumbled backwards, surprised by the intensity of his anger.

Jack stood panting, looking in Ennis' direction.

"I'm outta here."

He turned around and continued climbing, finding rocks and roots that he could make a footing of. He was seeing red; he wanted to kick Ennis' ass, but he knew that nothing good would come of violence at the moment. He made it to the top of the incline and heard Ennis call behind him.

"Good, I'm glad to see ya go! It was stupid ta invite ya up here in the first place!"

Jack kept walking, heading back to their campsite, hair still slightly wet, chest bare, sweat forming on his back from the intensity of their fight and from the energy it had taken to climb up the hill. He realized after a second that he'd forgotten his hat, but he wasn't going back for anything, wouldn't turn back. He didn't turn when Ennis called his name a few seconds later, didn't go back, even though his voice had sounded pleading and even though his heart told him he wanted to.


	16. Chapter 16

"Jack!"

Ennis called after the quickly retreating man one final time, hoping he'd turn around, come back and at least give him a chance to apologize. No such luck. From the bottom of the incline he didn't have a very good view, so it didn't take long for him to loose sight of Jack's shirtless form storming off, mad as hell, and most likely unforgiving.

"Goddamnit!"

Ennis turned around, put his hand on his hips. He was still naked as a jaybird and so he walked back over to where his clothes were lying, feeling suddenly vulnerable and self-conscious even though he was alone. There were times to be naked, and this was not one of them.

He was staring out at the water, wondering how he'd let things get so off track, and he didn't notice the jagged rock near his clothes. He stepped down on it hard, cutting the bottom of his foot fairly deep and causing him to yell out in surprise. He lifted his foot up, hopped up and down for a minute, and then got a good look at the offending stone.

"Stupid damn fuckin'…" Mumbling curses at the rock as though it would somehow take away the pain.

Ennis picked up the stone, surprisingly heavy in his hand, and threw it roughly into the water, causing a splash that was too small to be satisfying. He found another slightly bigger rock, and this time threw it into the pond with both hands, creating a splash that better suited his aggression. He stood there, watching the ripples, waiting for them to slow down and then eventually vanish.

The longer he stood at the water's edge, the more the dirt stung his cut. He waded into the water, wincing as he walked, so he could rinse the wound. When he felt it was good and clean, he hobbled out, only stepping on his toes so he wouldn't get it dirty again, and grabbed his shirt, dunked it in the water to cool it off, then wrapped it around his foot and tied the ends in a knot, soothing the wound and staunching the bleeding.

He admired his handy work for a second before putting on his pants and then picking up his boots and hat. He stopped when he saw Jack's hat, the fancy black felt Stetson lying in the dirt like it was a part of the native scenery. The sight of the now dirty hat brought some sort of biting emotion closer to the surface, and he hobbled over to it, picked it up, and dusted it off with his hand. He couldn't get all the dirt off, but that didn't bother him much, he liked seeing the hat soiled, liked the way the black felt was not as dark caked with dust and mud, it made Jack seem more…real.

Ennis limped his way back to the rock he'd sat on only a few minutes before and plopped himself down, his foot the only part of him feeling immediate relief. He turned the hat over in his hands, got a good look at it. It was nice, not too new, fairly worn, but still with an expensive look to it. Ennis placed it on his head. It fit fairly well, was a little big, but not too much. He took it off and set it down on the rock next to him, brought his legs up to sit Indian style. He fingered the surprisingly nice thread of the shirt that he'd wrapped around his cut and then realized it wasn't his shirt at all—it was Jack's.

"_He must a' grabbed my shirt instead a' his and stormed off without noticin' it."_

This knowledge hit Ennis like a punch to the gut and suddenly the story—the shirts—came bubbling out of the depths.

The story had not been lost on him, neither had the moral. Well not really a moral, but at anything, a warning. Though of all the things he'd said to Jack only minutes before, one was specifically true. He really _didn't_ like the story, didn't like it because the more he'd read it (the number of readings had increasingly progressed even though he told himself to stop and just throw it out—for some reason he couldn't put it down for very long) the more he'd felt the loss, the more he'd understood the absolute void that the story's Ennis had been thrust into.

He understood because he'd been living in his own version of that same void his entire life.

Ennis knew death. His parents had died when he was young enough to need to be taken care of by his brother and sister, but not so young that he didn't understand what it meant to be orphaned. Ennis knew loss. He'd had his chances of an education taken from him with one stupid busted transmission, had any hope of some life beyond ranching run off the cliff at an unexpected curve. He'd been left by his sister, then eventually left by his brother, then eventually left by his wife. He was familiar with pain, so familiar that he could barely recognize what it really was; it wore a mask of normalcy.

His sister used to always tell him, after he'd stopped going to school and was forced to find work on ranches to help raise money, she used to tell him, "Don't worry too much, you've jest hit hard times, you'll pull yerself out one day." Ennis had been working and fighting his whole life for that one day to come, and the older he'd gotten the more he'd begun to realize that that "one day" wasn't coming. So hard times had become his life, backbreaking job, heart breaking marriage, no satisfaction, no happiness.

Until he'd met Jack. Until, one fateful day, when he'd seen stranger walk in through the doors of the roughest bar in Riverton, and he'd helped him out in a bar fight and ended up finding the best friend he'd ever known. That was when he'd realized what real loss was.

It was funny because all the things he'd lived through, all the sadness and all the pain, it had never really bothered him that much. It wasn't until he'd found this man, this friend, full of life, full of joy and good times and good stories, that he'd realized that the _real_ loss of his life was that he'd never ever enjoyed a single minute of it. He'd found his joy in his daughters, and that had been enough, but he'd never lived for himself, never had a sense of self or worth or of happiness. That changed in the blink of an eye.

It had taken him a while to figure this out, in fact, the truth of it hadn't really hit him until after the previous night he'd shared with Jack. But the more he read the story, the closer to the truth he got, and the more he felt this loss, the loss of a friend, the loss of the truest kind of friend any one can have, a partner in the best sense of the word. So he did what Ennis Del Mar did best: he'd ignored it. He pushed away the loss of "Jack's death" and forgot about it. It wasn't something he wanted to confront, because it was so close to home, it could have been real. He'd been able to keep it away, until Jack had started his mouth, had brought up the subject, wanting to talk like he always did. Ennis couldn't hide from it when it was looking him right in the face.

He was afraid, and even more so, confused. And so once again he did what he did best when he was afraid: he got defensive. He tried to hurt Jack to keep him away from him, because God forbid, he see the _real_ Ennis, the man that was insecure and afraid of what was happening to himself and what could happen to Jack. The things he'd said to Jack, they'd just been a front, something to change the subject, something, _anything_, to take the focus off the story and what was supposed to happen next, because in all honesty, Ennis had no idea.

The book weighed heavy on his mind, and a part of him wanted to say, _"fuck the story, be with him, fuck everyone, jest do what make ya happy fer once." _

But then there was that other side of him that said, _"No, ya saw what happened didn't ya? It all went ta hell in the end. Jack died cuz a' all this, how would ya handle that after living without him fer yer whole damned life?"_

Ennis sighed and leaned back on his elbows, let the cool rock soothe his tired muscles, his weary mind. The sun was warm on his face, and even with his eyes closed, tainted the darkness with bright red light.

"Yer not gettin' much younger, ya know…" 

Ennis opened his eyes and looked down at his bare chest, at the clumps of hair running from his stomach to his collarbone, sprinkled with gray. He could almost feel Jack's hand on him, his fingers running over the coarse hairs. He exhaled loudly and laid back on the stone completely, throwing one arm over his face to block out the interfering sunlight.

"_Yer too old fer this kind a' nonsense. Ya should be home with a wife and with grandchildren runnin' around, and that's that."_

But none of that had worked out, so why shouldn't he try for something else that might make him happy?

And wasn't happy with Jack Twist? Wasn't that just the definition of "happy"? Ennis wasn't sure, but if "happy" meant the way he felt when he'd first seen Jack step out from the trees into the moonlight two night ago, then bring on the joy.

Ennis let his mind return to the night Jack had arrived, how something inside felt like it had opened, something that had been screwed tight for a long time. He'd been sure Jack wasn't coming, had been down right blue about it, and then there he was, like some sort of weird vision from a dream. That was the first time he'd felt the desire for Jack Twist, felt it reach up from the depths and take hold of him stronger than anything he'd ever felt before. The first time he'd imagined what it would be like to touch his lips, to feel his hands on him, to taste him. Well maybe it hadn't been the _first time_, but it was the first time that he understood that what he was feeling was desire.

The whole first night he'd wanted to just grab the man and throw him down on the ground, show him how pleased he was to see him after four long weeks. But he'd held back, held back till it almost hurt. And then it had finally happened, Jack had finally taken it into his own hands and they'd kissed. At last.

That had been the most frightening and the most exciting moment of Ennis' life. For a few brief moments, he'd been lost, lost totally in the experience of Jack. Then suddenly, the old fear came back to him, that old "I'm not no queer" fear, and he'd panicked, fled like the devil himself had been after him.

When he'd made it back to camp, he didn't know what to do with himself. He paced, started and doused fires, made sure camp was all set (even though they'd seen to it before), done everything and nothing until the sun had started to go down. Torn, mad at himself, and even more confused, he'd finally settled down to sleep, not knowing where Jack was, or if he was even coming back, figuring that he'd finally blown it all to hell, after all the trouble.

But then, once again, like some sort of ghost, he'd appeared at the entrance to the tent, and everything Ennis had ever imagined, and at the same time, nothing he'd ever imagined happening to him, happened. Jack was with him, on him, inside him—his breath, his scent, his voice, all overwhelming, drowning Ennis.

Ennis sat up, revived by the memory, and looked out at the water, the powerful falls, and the gentle, docile, ripples that stretched all the way to the edge and eventually narrowed into the stream that wove all throughout this part of the Teton National Park.

So the ultimate question was, run and hide, or step up and face his fears like a man?

Ennis ran his hands over the plaid material of Jack's shirt, damp with water and a little blood.

"_How can ya hide from somethin' like this?"_

And the truth was; he couldn't.

* * *

"Fuckin' asshole!"

Jack was stampeding up the trail, a blur in the mountain forest. All he could think about was getting as far away as he could, getting far away from Ennis and from the horrible sick feeling that was growing in his stomach.

"Damnit, damnit, damnit…"

His chanting took up a rhythm, matching his steps as though each jolt from his foot touching down on the hard ground caused the words to erupt from his mouth.

After nearly twenty minutes, Jack started getting a little winded and slowed down, feeling the sweat trickling down his back and collecting under his arms.

_"Great deal a' good takin' a swim did."_

His feet came to a gradual stop and he grabbed the shirt he'd thrown over his shoulder to wipe the perspiration from his forehead. His lack of movement gave the heat a chance to catch up with him. He realized that as the day had gotten later, the air had gotten muggier (surprisingly), causing dampness among the trees heavy enough to make their leaves sag towards the dusty ground. With the day's humidity and heat also came the despair.

Jack felt the stinging tears well, tried to keep them from falling, but it was no use, they wove crooked tracks down his face, mingling with the sweat. The deep anguish that had been hidden by his overwhelming anger was now given room to flourish and it grabbed Jack by the throat, hit him full in the chest so hard it was difficult to breath. His shoulders shook with the force of his sobs, a mixture of anger and heartbreak.

He pried his eyes open, wiped his tears away, damning them, damning himself.

"Stop it!" He said his words aloud, hoping that would help. "Stop it, ya damned pussy, stop it!"

He slapped himself hard on the side of the face, the feeling far away and dull. He took in a deep breath and wiped his face dry with the shirt. He stood there in silence.

_"Damnit, Jack. If yer gonna be a gay man, at least do it with a little dignity, okay?"_

It was hard to do though, to keep his dignity, especially since now he felt as though he'd been kicked in the face and drowned in the mud. He'd been a fool. A stupid fucking fool to believe that things could ever work out, to believe that the story had some sort of grip on reality and that Ennis Del Mar could ever love Jack the way Jack loved him. He should have known, should have known.

_"Yer such an idiot, Twist. Yer jest as bad as ya were in the story. Comin' up here on a whim, not even thinkin' it through, only thinkin' with yer dick. And then ta believe that maybe everything could work out, maybe it could be better than the story, maybe ya could actually make a go of it."_

Jack exhaled deeply and wiped more sweat from the back of his head.

_"You were a fool."_

Yes, he had been a fool, but this was where it ended, this was where the sensible Jack Twist came back and took over and never let that stupid smiling dreamer out again.

Jack started walking again. He read the story, he knew how it ended, he knew how Ennis had strung him along, never actually having the balls to step out of the dark, to step out of the wilderness and admit to loving Jack Twist. Well it wasn't happening that way this time. No fucking around, no waiting for Ennis to make up his mind like some love sick little schoolgirl. Hell no, not in this life.

The sad thing was, a part of Jack desperately wanted to go back to the clearing and the waterfall, go back to Ennis and tell him that they didn't have to talk about _anything_, as long as they could just be together, if only for a little while.

Jack stopped again, angry at the pathetic way he wanted Ennis. He looked down at the shirt he held firmly in his hand, and suddenly realized that it wasn't his, that in fact he'd grabbed Ennis' when he'd stormed off.

"Oh shit."

A wave of nausea washed over Jack, and he fought the vertigo of his spinning surroundings. He bent over, grabbed his knees, closed his eyes. The shirts, he'd taken Ennis' shirt, and he hadn't even intended to.

After a few deep breaths, Jack opened his eyes and saw that the ground had stopped its spin, and carefully straightened up. The nausea had also calmed, and now he was left with a strange feeling of quiet.

_"I can't escape the story no matter how hard I try. I can't seem ta escape it."_

Jack's heartbeat picked up and once again he was filled with a sense of anger, almost to the point of panic. He started his walk again, faster paced, almost jogging.

_"Fuck if I'm gonna jest stand around boo hooin' all day. I'm tired of doin' what others expect a' me, lettin' other people lead me through my life. I'm makin' my own destiny now. I may not be able to escape it, but I'm sure as hell gonna try."_

He eventually got back to the trail that lead to their campsite, the only thing on his mind being how soon he could get himself packed and away from Brokeback Mountain.

* * *

Ennis was hiking as fast as his tender foot would take him. He'd taken the shirt off his foot so he could put his boot on and then washed it in the pond so it wouldn't be as rank when he gave it back to Jack. Now, the shirt was flung over his shoulder, a refreshing feeling of cool in the muggy woods, and he had Jack's hat gripped tightly in his right hand.

He'd decided it wasn't best to wait around by the waterfall, didn't know what Jack had in mind, was hoping he wasn't leaving, or worse, that he hadn't already left. So after rinsing Jack's shirt and putting on his boots, he'd hightailed away from the little oasis and headed back to face reality.

Ennis thought it had been a little under an hour by the time he got to their campsite, but it was hard to tell because he hadn't been wearing his watch the past couple of days. He prayed it wasn't too late.

At first sight, the camp looked deserted, and Ennis felt his heart rise up into his throat, ready to deal with yet another blow in his already sad life. But then, he heard a splashing noise near the river, and he carefully, hopefully ventured deeper into the camp, past the tent, until the stream was in view. And there was Jack. He was hunkered down near the water, washing something and smoking like a chimney. He had his back, now clothed in a gray tee shirt, to Ennis and hadn't realized that he was there. Ennis walked over to him, quietly as possible, and stopped when he was about three feet away.

"Can I bum a smoke?"

Jack stopped what he was doing and turned slowly, looking up at him. He had a funny expression on his face that Ennis could only guess was 30 parts shock and 60 parts anger, with something else thrown in to confuse him. He reached into his jeans' pocket and pulled out the cigarette pack, passed it. Ennis took one out and Jack lit it for him before he put it to his mouth and inhaled deeply.

It was funny, but the past two days had been relatively smoke free for Ennis, and for Jack too as far as he could tell. Except for a couple cigarettes in the morning and a couple more the previous night, before Jack had come to him in the tent, he had been riding without the aid of any nicotine. Which was unusual for a man that was used to at least a pack a day (he'd cut it down from two or three packs as he'd gotten older). He took another lung full of the thick, bitter tasting smoke, and then looked back down at Jack who'd returned to whatever it was he was washing.

"What ya got there?"

Jack stood and rung out the clothe he had been rinsing, then walked over to a branch and draped it out to dry. Ennis could see now that it was a shirt—his shirt. Jack didn't bother answering just walked back towards the tent. Ennis noticed that his gear was in a neat little pile outside the tent's entrance. A jolt of panic shot through him.

"Where ya goin'?"

Jack kneeled by his duffel, messed with its zipper, then made sure his sleeping bag was secure. He stood and grabbed both the bags. Ennis took two steps in his direction.

"Ya don't wanna ferget these…" He held out Jack's hat and shirt in each hand.

Jack turned, licked his lips like he was thinking and then set his stuff down. He walked over to Ennis and grabbed his hat, but didn't put it on his head, and then more gently took the shirt that Ennis had in his left hand, examined it slightly, ran his fingers over it.

"I washed it fer ya. I got it kinda dirty, so I thought I should at least clean it up, make it nice again, looked expensive."

Jack shook his head. "It was a gift…from my granddaughter. Thanks."

He took another drag of his cigarette, looked back up at Ennis and sighed.

"I was hoping ta be outta here 'fore you got back."

"Where ya goin'?"

Jack shrugged, looked down. "Don't know."

"Why don't ya stay then?"

Jack shook his head again, this time more vehemently. "No."

He dropped his smoke, squashed the butt with the toe of his boot and then looked back up at Ennis. "There's no reason fer me ta be here any longer."

He turned to walk back to his bags, and Ennis reached out, forgetting his cigarette, and grabbed his arm.

"Jack, come on."

He jerked his arm away and turned to Ennis, anger apparent in his face now.

"I said no, goddamnit!" His eyes bore into Ennis. Jack went over to his things and dropped his hat on top of his duffel but held onto the shirt. He stood there a minute, thinking, and then came back to Ennis, determination set in his face and in his steps.

"I can't live like this the rest a' my life. I can't worry 'bout constantly tip-toin' around you, not wantin' to offend the careful balance that is Ennis' temper, not wantin' ya ta have ta face what it may mean ta have sex with a man. I can't do that. I don't want ta do that."

"You wouldn't have ta."

"Yes I would Ennis, yes I would. I read the book; I know what happens. I thought that wouldn't be the way things turned out, but ya showed me this huge glimpse a' the future earlier today, and I didn't like what I saw."

He turned to walk away again. Suddenly everything as flying past Ennis like a speeding train. It was as though he was the only thing _not_ moving, the only thing stopped, and in that brief moment, he had a sudden jolt that this was a crucial turning point. It was almost like someone opened his skull and told him to either sit up or shut up, but whichever he chose, be prepared to deal with the consequences. Ennis breathed in deep, trying to break his paralysis, trying to make his leg move, or his mouth move, or anything to stop the speeding landscape.

"Jack!" He felt his whole body seize up; terrified of the things he was about to admit. "Fuck it. Jack, I was afraid!"

Jack stopped, the trees stopped, the earth stopped its fast-forward drive. Ennis was breathing hard, sweat dripping down his still bare chest, feeling like he'd just been thrown off a cliff. He waited for Jack to turn around, but he wasn't moving.

"I was afraid a' _this_. I was afraid a' what it means and what…shit, I don't know what I'm tryin' ta say!" His voice had gotten loud, like he was trying to yell above a thousand screaming voices and that's the way it felt.

"I don't know anythin'! I jest know I'm afraid…for you! Of losin' you. I'm afraid because I think…damnit, Jack…I think I love you."

There he said it. He said it even though the whole while he'd felt like he was dying, felt like the words had to fight their way out of his mouth, but in the end they'd won. And now with the wall finally brought down, Ennis had more to say.

"I didn't want ta tell ya, I thought I could jest keep it ta myself fer as long as it took, thought that keepin' that part silent might be able ta slow things down, keep anythin' bad from happenin', but…well, turns out that wasn't workin'." He took a deep breath and continued, no use of keeping anything else in.

"I read the book too, Jack. I read it prob'bly a hundred times, or more. I lost count. So what kinda person would I be ta follow in the foot steps a' that fictional character, knowing what I know happens in the end, and knowing what could a' been?"

Ennis laughed slightly, ran a hand over his face.

"I'll tell ya, that Annie Proulx certainly's got a good grip on the kinda person I am. Shit, don't know how she managed it, but honestly I probably woulda done the exact same thing had it all worked out that way."

He shook his head. "And sure, I'm an asshole ta say that. But that's where it ends. I got the message, I got the warnin'…I'm not gonna let it happen that way this time."

Jack was still. Ennis could sense some change in his demeanor though, and he thought, at least for now, he'd managed to keep him from going anywhere. He took a few steps, closing the gap between them. He pressed into him and wrapped one arm around the front of Jack's chest, pulling him closer. Then he reached down and grabbed the shirt that Jack had been holding, intertwining their hands and brought it up to Jack's heart.

"This is real. This ain't no story. What d'ya say we take a chance writin' our own version, huh?"

Ennis felt Jack sag a little, but he held him close, rocking them slowly, resting his chin on Jack's shoulder, pressing his face close into his neck. He could smell Jack, not the Jack from Childress, covered in some cologne or other, but the real man, the man from Wyoming, strong, and funny, and loving. He smelled like sweat and cigarettes and something that rang of nature itself, something like earth or wood.

Eventually Jack grabbed the arm Ennis had draped across his chest with his other hand, and then they were totally connected, like a circle, never ending, one part flowing into the other only to continue its flow round and round. Ennis felt a level of peace settle over him that he'd never felt before, something completely soothing and gentle. And in that short moment, they disappeared. It was no longer Jack and Ennis, ranch hand and corporate manager, man and man, it was just two beings, two friends, two lovers, holding on to one another, joining together for a few seconds and forever.

Eventually the sun beating down on Ennis' back caused him to come out of his near doze and he rubbed his hand across Jack's chest.

"Come on, can't stand like this all day."

"Why not?" Jack's voice was quiet, strained, groggy.

Ennis chuckled softly at how much of a boy Jack still was, even in his 56 years.

"Well fer one, it would be kinda strange, and second off, I'm getting' kinda hot and need ta take a piss."

Ennis felt Jack smile, felt his cheeks rise against his own.

"Getting' hot, huh? Anythin' I can help ya with?"

Ennis rolled his eyes, leave it to Jack to have his mind in the gutter at a time like this. He couldn't' help but laugh again, which was exactly Jack's intention.

"You now what I mean."

"Do I?" Jack laughed himself. "All right, but I don't feel ya goin' anywhere."

Ennis closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, savoring Jack's scent once more, then patted Jack's chest and pulled away. Jack wouldn't let their hands untangle though. He turned and faced Ennis, hands still locked on the shirt. Ennis smiled.

"I'm gonna take another dip in the water, it's damn hot out. All sweaty again."

"Don't go too far, okay?"

Ennis nodded, squeezed Jack's hand and then they parted, and Ennis was walking down towards the river, Jack watching his back as he went.

* * *

Ennis rinsed himself off in the stream nearby, splashing water over his head and face, washing away the sweat and worries that had made him slick and sticky. Jack had done the same thing before Ennis had gotten back to their campsite and so agreed to go ahead and start the fire for diner, since now the sun was starting its downward trek across the sky.

The whole time Ennis had been in the water, he found that his eyes kept wandering over to Jack. The funny thing was that almost every time he caught his attention moseying over towards the fire, he'd end up meeting Jack's eyes.

They played this little game for nearly twenty minutes, looking, looking away when they were caught, looking back. Eventually, tired of just eye contact, Ennis got out of the stream and walked up towards the fire, completely naked and dripping wet, until he was right next to Jack, his chest almost touching Jack's shoulder.

No words were spoken between them, but they both acted at the same time, both heavy with the same desires. Jack dropped the stick he'd been using to stoke the fire, and turned towards Ennis grabbing his face, tangling his fingers in his dark wet hair, and bringing their lips together forcefully. Ennis immediately wrapped his arms around Jack's middle and then pulled his tee shirt out, snaking his hands up his sides, loving the feel of Jack's warm bare skin against his cool, open palms. Ennis gripped at his back, joining their bodies together, grinding his dick into Jack's groin.

"Ennis," Jack whispered into his mouth. "Ennis, want ya so bad."

His words ignited Ennis' passion to an all time high. The previous times they'd made love Ennis had barely been able to control himself, but now that the air was open between them, he didn't feel he had to. He pulled his hands out from under Jack's shirt and lifted it off his head, threw it on the ground, and then moved his hands down to fiddle with Jack's belt buckle. He got it undone, and then unzipped his pants, let his hand glide over Jack's belly down into his boxers. He looked up to meet Jack's eyes and saw they had that glazed hungry expression he'd noticed a few times before. It was as though all rational thought had left Jack's brain, completely helpless at his touch, completely wanting, needing only Ennis.

Ennis let go of Jack, pulled down his pants, and kneeled in front of him. He brought his mouth close to Jack's dick, standing straight in all its glory. That was one thing about Jack Twist, he was a beautiful man even at age 56, beautiful naked, and that made Ennis want to touch him even more. He opened his mouth and licked at the head of Jack's dick, not sure what to expect, but surprised by what he tasted—salt, skin, and something else distinctly Jack, that woody air he had about him.

He looked up into Jack's face and saw those deep blue eyes, made darker with desire, gazing intently down at him. He couldn't wait any longer and so he took Jack all the way into his mouth, sucking and working his hand at the base of the shaft, stroking slowly in time with the movement of his lips.

Jack stiffened and jutted his hips out trying to give Ennis the easiest access. He was mumbling something, but Ennis wasn't listening, he was too intent on what he was doing, too focused on getting the best and biggest response out of Jack. Ennis reached up with his left hand and grabbed at Jack's ass, bringing him closer to his face, and started to slowly massage his back and his ass, squeezing and rubbing. Jack let out a little yell and had to stomp his foot, had to try and hold off coming, because there was so much more to do, so much more.

A couple moments later, Ennis felt Jack start to stiffen, start to draw up, and he let go and pulled his mouth away, not wanting Jack release. He put one hand on Jack's lower abdomen, and rubbed gently, softly, reassuring.

"All right, all right, hold on there. We don't want the fun ta end yet, do we?"

Jack, whose breathing was starting to slow, starting to return to normal, let out a low chuckle and then reached down for Ennis, wanting him to stand, wanting to meet him face to face. Ennis obliged and stood up, pressing his lips to Jack's, touching tongues, gently increasing the passion of the kiss, bringing his hand up to caress the back of Jack's neck.

After a few seconds, Jack parted their lips and looked into Ennis' eyes, ran his thumb across his cheek. He whispered.

"Ennis, I want ya ta feel what I felt last night. I wanna try it with ya, I'll do my best not ta hurt ya."

Ennis held his breath. "Did I hurt _you_?"

Jack smiled. "Nothin' I didn't enjoy. So what d'ya say?"

Ennis thought for a moment, in silent, then answered with a slow kiss, showing Jack, rather than telling him, "yes". Jack pulled back, big lopsided smirk on his face, and then sprinted over to his stuff, grabbed his sleeping bag, and returned to Ennis. He unrolled the bag then laid it out over the grass a little ways from the fire.

Ennis took a few steps closer. "We seem ta be puttin' that sleepin' bag a' yers ta good use."

Jack gave Ennis a devilish grin, straightened out a wrinkle in the material, then kneeled down and reached out a hand to Ennis, beckoning.

"Come down here."

Ennis stepped onto the fleece and also kneeled, not taking Jack's hand, but instead going straight for his mouth, holding onto his neck. Jack kissed him back eagerly and then sat up a little more so he could lay Ennis down on his back. He pressed his weight full on Ennis and ran his hand down to grab his dick, didn't stroke, only held it firm in his hand. Ennis pulled back.

"Do I need ta get on my knees or somethin'?"

Jack shook his head. "Nah, I wanna do it like this, facin' you."

Ennis frowned. "Can ya do it like that?"

Jack smiled. "Well, I'm assumin'."

Ennis laughed and rolled his eyes at Jack. "All right, what ever."

"Hey now, don't go gettin' disinterested on me, now!"

Ennis reached up and kissed Jack, made it clear that he was far from disinterested.

"Okay, jest makin' sure."

The two laughed, but the laughter quickly turned to throaty moans as Jack started moving his hand on Ennis, up and down, slowly. He switched hands, and brought his other hand up to his mouth, sucked on one of his fingers, moistening it with his spit.

"Sure wish we had some KY or somethin'."

Ennis chuckled softly, distracted by Jack's touch and then he felt his hand down near his ass. He felt a little pressure and the next thing he knew he could feel Jack's finger inside him. Jack moved it in and out, slowly, not wanting to cause any discomfort.

"Does that hurt?"

Ennis shook his head. "No."

"Good." Jack kissed a trail down Ennis neck and then whispered in his ear. "I don't want ta hurt ya Ennis, so I'm gonna go slow."

Ennis just nodded, not knowing what to say or what to do in the situation, putting himself completely in Jack's hands. Jack pulled his hand out again, sucked on two fingers, then went back down and pushed them inside Ennis. Ennis let out a little cry; he felt a slight twinge, but nothing too bad.

"I'm gonna try three, you okay?"

Ennis nodded again, "Yeah, jest do it."

Jack pushed one more finger in, and Ennis felt a little more pressure, a faint touch of pain, more of discomfort.

"Relax, Ennis, ya gotta relax, other wise it's not gonna be so easy."

"When'd you become the expert on this?"

Jack laughed loudly, and smiled, enough to make Ennis forget the slight discomfort.

"One time's enough, let me tell ya."

He moved his fingers in and out, slowly, and gently continued his strokes on Ennis cock, up and down, in and out. Ennis started to loose himself in the motion and he started gently bucking up and down, up and down. Jack pulled his hand out.

"Okay, I'm gonna really try it this time, all right?"

Jack lifted Ennis legs up slightly, repositioned himself so that he was under him, had better access, and then gently pressed his dick into Ennis. Ennis sucked in a breath, he hadn't quite expected it to feel as big as it did, but it didn't hurt too badly, Jack was being gentle, and he'd already warmed up from the stretching he'd done with his hand.

Jack braced himself on either side of Ennis with his hands, and Ennis grabbed on tight to his back, pulling him in as far as he would go.

"Oh, Jesus, Ennis, this is so good. Oh my god."

Jack moved slightly to the left, got a better angle and then pressed in farther, causing Ennis to yell out, but not from pain—it was like red hot fire had just shot up his dick, stronger and more exciting than anything he'd ever felt.

"Holy shit, Jack! What the fuck?"

Jack started moving a little faster, his eyes closed, breathing hard, sweat beading on his forehead and starting to drip onto Ennis' face. With each thrust, Ennis felt the wonderful throb of pleasure, felt it run through his body all the way to his toes. He wrapped his legs around Jack, wanting to draw them closer, wanting to feel Jack completely. He started bucking up against Jack, feeling the orgasm rise inside him without even touching himself.

But then everything was slowing down. Ennis opened his eyes, staring up at Jack's face—eyes shining, mouth slightly open. Ennis felt his heart clench in his chest, felt that if Jack kept that look on his face much longer he might just die.

"What?"

"Ennis…" his voice was gentle, full of emotion. He cleared his throat.

"Ennis you know I love you, right?"

Ennis grabbed Jack's face in both his hands and pulled him down for a gentle kiss. Jack started his thrusts again while their mouths were locked, sped up his pace, dug his elbows into the ground on either side of Ennis' neck. He parted the kiss and curved his back, brought his forehead down to meet Ennis', eyes locked, bodies locked.

He didn't break their gaze, even when Ennis felt his muscles start to tighten and his balls draw up. He didn't break his gaze even when Jack's eyes got cloudy and his mouth hung open and his breathing sped up and he yelled, "Ennis, Ennis, oh god, Ennis!" and he didn't break his gaze when he felt Jack's body shake and the wet feeling of cum inside him, and then his own powerful release only seconds later splashing wet between their bodies, he wouldn't tear his eyes away from that man. And then it was over.

Jack lay motionless on top of Ennis, still inside, the only sign of life being the quick rise and fall of his back, still breathing heavy from the impact of their orgasms. Ennis, gaze finally broken, had his head turned to the side, eyes wide, barely able to believe what had just happened. From his position, he had a good vision of the fire licking at the open sky and creating hazy patches of gas in the air directly above it. Ennis suddenly realized that they'd just had sex completely out in the open, no covering, no inhibitions, and the best part of it was he didn't even care.

"Sweet Jesus, that was fuckin'amazin'."

Jack's voice came out muffled because his face was buried in his neck. Ennis chuckled at how funny his voice had sounded and then wrapped his arms tight around him.

"Amen ta that."

Jack lifted his face from Ennis' shoulder and gave his a sweet kiss, before pulling out slowly and laying down next to him, shoulder touching shoulder, arm touching arm, leg touching leg. Jack laughed.

"I mean, seriously, I ain't never had sex this good before. I can't think of a single time. Damn. What about you?"

Ennis shrugged. "Think I'd remember if I had."

Jack propped up on his elbow, turned to face Ennis.

"What the hell does this mean then, Ennis? I don't think I've ever come so hard with a woman, and that's not sayin' I haven't tried. It's jest never been like this. Does that mean we're queer?"

Ennis rolled his eyes. "I dunno, Jack. We gotta talk right now?"

Jack sniffed then laid back down. He was quiet for a moment.

"So what happens now?"

Ennis swallowed hard. How was he supposed to answer what he had no clue of?

"I dunno."

"Is that all you can say?" Jack's voice was rising.

"Come on, Jack, jest, give it a rest fer a minute. I know we got more stuff ta talk 'bout, and jest cause I'm not feelin' particularly chatty don't mean I'm backin' out. I jest wanna lay here and enjoy the moment, ya know?"

Ennis heard Jack take in a deep breath and then let it out. Then he rolled over and laid his head on Ennis' chest, draped his arm across his stomach.

"I'm sorry. I'm jest antsy s'all. I got a whole bunch a' energy or somethin'."

Ennis lifted his head to look Jack in the face. "After all that?"

Jack laughed. "Yeah, surprisingly. Damn. That was good wasn't it?"

It was Ennis' turn to chuckle now. "You jest can't keep quiet can you?"

"Guess not. But that's what ya like 'bout me, right?"

"Jack shut the hell up."

"All right, all right, all right. You jest remember this moment the next time ya want me ta keep my mouth _open_!"

Ennis smirked and hit Jack on the arm playfully. "I will."

"Good. As long as we're clear on that."

Jack laid his head back down on Ennis, as content to feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, as Ennis was to feel the pleasing warmth and weight of the man's body stretched on top of him.


	17. Chapter 17

Jack crawled out of the tent to take a piss. It was early in the morning, too early for even a ranch hand to consider getting up, but something had woken him, something besides the urge to relieve himself—_that_ had been almost an after thought.

Once outside the vinyl flap that kept the tent sealed, he stood carefully, feeling the tiredness that had started to settle in his bad knee and hip, tiredness that only came from roughing it and sleeping on the ground for a week. Jack stretched with his hands on his hips and then wandered off a little distance into the woods to piss on a tree that he'd taken to calling "Mighty John Young" (He brought Eliza to see the movie _Mighty Joe Young_ when it was in theaters). That was the area he'd been using as his outhouse, and he wasn't sure why, but for some reason he found it funny to call it that.

He unzipped, let go, and leaned his head back, feeling sleep and the promise of Ennis' warmth calling him back to the tent. When he was done, he did his jeans up and ambled, not to the tent (sleep, though inviting, was not possible at the moment), but over to their little cooking area. Jack sat down and picked up the pack of cigarettes he kept tucked under a notch in the tree trunk he always occupied. He flicked his lighter, brought the smoke to his mouth, and inhaled deep, resting his elbows on his knees, and tilting his head to the side so he had a clear view of the cloudless night sky.

_"Sure is beautiful up here. Damn, it's fuckin' amazin', that's what."_

Jack sighed. Sure it was amazing, too good to be true, and that's what had Jack worried, what he was almost sure—though not positive—had stirred him from his easy sleep.

_"It's like some kind a' dream world up here, a little too perfect. Jest the two a' us, no one else ta mess with, no one ta tell us we're perverted."_

Not the real world, in other words.

_"Can see what was so attractive 'bout comin' up here fer the two guys in the story."_

Jack took another puff of his cigarette, felt his lungs burn slightly, but enjoyed it like he hadn't much else in his life. He wasn't sure why all that was bothering him so much. He should have been feeling carefree. Full of hope and love, right? Wasn't it enough to know that Ennis shared his feelings?

Jack shook his head. No, it wasn't enough. Sure the words had been said, and then made clear by actions, but what happened next?

It was Sunday, well, Monday now, and they'd been in the mountains a week. They'd kissed for the first time on Monday afternoon, fucked Monday night, nearly fallen apart Tuesday morning, then came back together and admitted things the characters in the book had never said by that same afternoon. It had all happened so fast, it almost made Jack's head spin. A whirlwind, sure, but it still seemed like Jack had been waiting his whole life for Ennis to say those things, had never actually imagined it actually happening.

The rest of the week had fallen into a comfortable routine. Wake up, fuck, make breakfast, try to fuck but find out they were too old to go at it that soon after, laugh, procure lunch, succeed at fucking once again, swim, make dinner, tell stories, drink, smoke, talk about family, doze off by the fire, wake up in the middle of the night, get to bed, fuck again though groggily and at a slower pace, then finally sleep—repeat the next day. It was a routine that both had been extremely happy to follow; Jack felt like he could follow that routine for as long as he lived, though he figured that eventually three times a day would be a bit of a stretch. Jack was still kicking though, hell 56 wasn't _that_ old, and he intended to try and keep that three times a day deal going as long as he could.

_"Just makin' up for lost time,"_ He mused.

What had started to trouble him though, what had started to seep into his bones like a cold wind foretelling winter, was the fact that they hadn't talked about what happened next, or where all their high times were leading. Jack kept meaning to bring it up, kept wanting to talk some more, but he couldn't find the right moment, and he was just so damned happy with the way things were going, he didn't want to have another fight, or interrupt their pleasant little schedule. And Ennis hadn't brought it up—but then again, was that very surprising?

Ennis had told him he "thought" he loved him. That was momentous. But—did that mean he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him? Was that why he hadn't said anything? Jack didn't know. What he _did_ know was the longer he spent with Ennis, the more he started thinking about how they might be able to make a life together work, and the deeper he sunk into this well of "feelings" and hope. He was so deep now he wasn't sure there was any going back.

Jack's thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the tent flap and then the grass rustling. He didn't bother turning around, knew who it was, just kept sucking away on his cigarette.

Ennis walked over and sat down next to Jack, sleepy expression on his face, chest bare, feet bare. He gave Jack a soft smile and then held his hand out. Jack knew what he was gesturing for and handed him the pack of cigarettes and then gave him the lighter. Ennis flicked out the flame after his smoke was burning and then put the metal lighter back into Jack's hand. They sat there in silence for a couple of minutes.

"Can't sleep?" Ennis finally found his voice.

Jack squeezed the still glowing end of his cigarette with his thumb and forefinger until the embers were completely extinguished and then tossed the butt off to the side.

"Nope."

"Got a lot on yer mind?"

"Yep."

Ennis let it go at that, wouldn't pry any farther unless Jack decided to share. They sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, looking up at the sky, the new moon barely visible in the darkness, the stars the only light for miles.

"Where were you in 1963?"

Jack looked over at Ennis, surprised by his question.

"What d'ya mean?"

Ennis took a puff of his cigarette and then exhaled slowly.

"I mean, where were ya, what were ya doin'?"

Jack turned forward again, rested his elbows on his knees. He thought. Hard.

"Jesus. 1963. Seems like a million years ago. Let's see…"

Antsy, he repositioned himself again, leaned back, rested a hand on the log to either side of him, and stared up at the dark sky.

" I was helpin' my daddy out on the ranch when jobs were scarce. But, I guess that was maybe the second year I'd tried ta get a job somewhere away from home. I'd signed up with the Farm and Ranch Employment agency, hopin' fer somethin' good…"

"What happened?"

"I don't remember." Jack turned his head to the side, a funny grin on his face. A memory was just beyond his reach, but he couldn't manage to touch it.

"I think the first summer I tried ta get away, we'd had a busy season at the ranch, busier than normal at least, and it turned out that my folks needed me more than I needed a job. Then the next summer, I guess…my daddy, yeah that's right, he got hurt, fell off his horse and threw out his back, needed my help again. Shit, I thought I'd never get away."

Jack laughed.

"I'd already been rodeoin' when I could, locally, whenever the rodeo would come in ta town, but the next summer, I decided ta call ranchin' quits and took up ta tourin'. Thought I was gonna be a famous bull rider or sometin'."

He shook his head. "Got me away from Lightenin' Flat and that's 'bout all I wanted."

Ennis nodded then threw his own cigarette down.

"Why do you ask? What were _you_ doin' in '63?"

"Believe it or not, I also signed up with Farm and Ranch Employment that summer. KE had jest gotten married, and I had nowhere ta go."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Oh really?"

"Yeah, I'd gotten a job with 'em too. But, uh, this friend a' KE's also needed some help with his spread, was short handed that summer, so my brother decided ta help me out and told his buddy, name a' Carden, that I was lookin' fer work."

Ennis took in a deep breath; let it out.

"Anyway, I turned down the job that F.R.E had assigned me and went to work cleanin' up horse shit fer a summer. That November I married my ex-wife."

Jack was silent. He wasn't sure why Ennis had brought this up.

"Don't ya get it?"

Jack shook his head. Ennis sighed.

"Do ya remember what job ya'd been assigned to that summer?"

Jack thought hard, then suddenly realized what Ennis was getting at and his stomach dropped out from under him. His mouth went dry.

"I…I…can't…"

"Well I can. It was herdin' sheep on Brokeback Mountain. I brushed it off at the time, figured I was better off with KE's buddy anyway, thought herdin' sheep wasn't a real cowboy's job. I would a' taken it if nothin' else had come up, though. I was that desperate. Didn't remember the place 'till I found it again a few years back."

Jack's heart was racing. He couldn't think straight, wasn't sure if he'd been arranged to work on Brokeback that summer or not, couldn't remember. _But_, on that fateful day nearly two months earlier, when he'd been sitting on his bed, flipping through the book he'd bought just by chance because it seemed interesting, what had made him pick the last story in the book to read? What had led him to it? Wasn't it because deep down inside, somewhere in his memory, he'd heard the name before? Wasn't it because Brokeback Mountain had a familiar ring to it?

"Holy shit."

That was it. He remembered now. He had been assigned as sheepherder to work on Brokeback Mountain that summer in 1963, that summer that John C. Twist had fallen off his horse because of some freak accident and had caused Jack to have to turn down the job at the last minute and work on his family ranch for another summer, thus altering his fate forever.

"Holy shit!" Jack stood up from the log quickly. He had to walk around, had to feel his feet moving, had to feel _something_ other than utter shock and disbelief.

"Were you gonna work up on Brokeback that summer, Jack?"

He was pacing around behind Ennis, thoughts moving at a million miles a second.

"This doesn't make any sense. This seems impossible, this, this…holy fuckin' shit, I think…I think I need ta sit back down."

Jack suddenly felt weak in the knees, felt his surroundings start to slip away, felt blackness on the brink. He put one hand to his head, trying to ease the dizziness. Then he felt Ennis' arms around him and he was able to lean his weight against him, feel his steady support, warm and unchanging.

"Ya didn't answer my question." Ennis whispered in his ear. He was running his hand up and down Jack's back trying to soothe.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut.

"You know the answer."

Suddenly, he felt hot tears spring into his eyes and the next thing he knew, they were streaming down his face silently falling on the warm skin of Ennis' bare shoulder.

"Are you cryin'?" The question was gentle, not accusatory.

He didn't say anything.

"It's alright Jack. Honest ta God, I don't mind. Ya can cry in front a' me if ya want."

Jack shook his head, lifted his face from Ennis' shoulder and wiped at his eyes, his nose.

"I'm becomin' a goddamned cry baby. Jesus."

He wiped his face and wiped again, but the tears kept coming, slowly, gently.

"I jest can't believe it, s'all. That means, Jesus, that means we were gonna be workin' together that summer…jest like the book…"

His breath caught in his throat and another wave of sorrow washed through him.

"I don't know which is worse, me dyin' or me not meetin' you till now, half our lives gone."

Ennis tightened his grip on Jack.

"Jack, hush now."

He let his head fall back onto Ennis' shoulder, pressed his face into his neck, let his words flow out like his tears.

"God, Ennis, I jest wish I coulda met you when I was younger, I jest…it's jest…"

He let out a shaky breath and wrapped his own arms around Ennis' back, loved the feel of the strong, hard muscles underneath his fingertips.

"Knowin' we were this close ta meetin' then, ta actually livin' the story…it's fuckin' unbelievable…it's like seein' the face a' God or somethin'…ya know? I mean, seein' what yer life woulda been, but how it changed just by insignificant little things…I'd be dead…"

"Jack."

"What?"

"Don't think about it anymore. I shouldn't a' brought it up. Don't bother trouble yerself over it. It wasn't supposed ta happen the way it did in the story, other wise it would a'. But it didn't."

He pushed Jack away far enough so he could look into his face, his eyes; make sure his meaning was clear.

"Now I can't say I don't got some sadness that I didn't know you sooner, but I got no regrets it happened this way. Looks ta me more like a blessin', don't' ya think?"

Jack blinked. He thought he knew what Ennis was saying, and it brought a warm feeling into his middle, washing away his earlier worries and doubts about their relationship.

"Yeah, guess so."

"I know so." Ennis smiled and wiped his cheek. Jack smiled and chuckled.

"What d'ya say we go back ta bed, huh?"

Jack nodded slowly, grabbed Ennis' hand and squeezed it.

"All right. Sounds good ta me."

"Come on then. I'm freezin' my fuckin' balls off."

"Heaven forbid."

"Shut up, asshole."

Jack laughed and followed Ennis back inside the tent and fell soundly asleep nearly the minute his head hit the ground.

* * *

They were sitting around the fire, cooking up the last two cans of beans and each staring off into the distance. They both knew their time in the mountains had to end that day, they couldn't stay up there forever, but it was a hard truth to accept.

They'd been silent all that morning, both lost in thought, both knowing there was more to discuss but neither sure how to start the conversation.

The beans started to bubble and Ennis grabbed a can and passed it to Jack. Jack grabbed it, held it with the pair of gloves that Ennis had let him borrow, and stared down into the thick, boiling liquid.

"Ya know, I didn't wanna say anythin', but I really _am_ sick a' beans."

Ennis grumbled something and started to eat. He stuck his spoon piled with beans in his mouth and then immediately spit it out, reached for the canteen of water he had at his side and drank heartily. Jack watched this whole display in amusement.

"Beans not settlin' with you either, huh?"

Ennis continued to drink then put the canteen down and wiped the excess liquid from his mouth.

"I burnt my fuckin' tongue."

"You know, ya might try lettin' yer food cool before ya start eatin'. It's a pretty clever method, saved me from many a burnt catastrophe."

Ennis gave Jack a look and then with exaggerated movements, picked up the can, blew on the contents and took another bite. He chewed, swallowed, and gave Jack a ridiculous smile, more of a grimace really. He looked away, Jack's attempts at humor clearly pointless.

"Yer such a smart ass, Twist. Sometimes ya really piss me off."

"Yeah well yer stubborn. And ya don't have a very good sense a' humor."

"Well sorry I can't be perfect, yer highness. How 'bout I get down on my knees and make ya feel a little better about it, what d'ya say?"

Jack frowned.

"Hey now. No need ta get defensive."

Ennis didn't say anything just kept eating and frowning. Jack tried to let his annoyance dissipate, knew that getting confrontational would just make matters worse. When he was calm enough, he took it into perspective.

"What's really botherin' you, Ennis? Is it cuz we have ta go back down today?"

Ennis didn't answer, which meant 'yes'. Jack clasped his hands between his knees and looked down. He knew that it wasn't the best time to bring up what had to be brought up, but he felt it was now or never.

"What happens next, Ennis? We haven't talked about any that stuff since, well since last week."

"I don't know."

Jack harrumphed. "All right, we've established that. But it's not helpin'. Come on, we gotta think about this. Does it end here? I wouldn't want ta think it would, but it's not jest me we're dealin' with."

Ennis sighed, put his can down. "I can't talk about this now."

Jack stood. "Well when the hell _can_ ya about it? Damnit, Ennis!"

He turned away looking off into the woods, hands on hips.

"I've been tryin' ta talk about this with ya fer the past week, and I'm always afraid of makin' ya angry or I dunno, makin' ya storm off. I can't do it anymore."

Jack turned around and walked back over to Ennis, dropped to his knees in front of him, despite his soreness from a week outdoors. He put a hand on each of Ennis' thighs and looked him in the face.

"Let's jest fer once get ta the fuckin' point, what d'ya say? I mean, we've accomplished a lot, right? But we keep dancin' around the whole subject of what's goin' on here, we get close ta it, but then either you or I shy away from it, and let's jest fer _once_ fuck it all and get it out in the open. Come on, come on Ennis."

Ennis was still frowning looking off to the side, but the frown wasn't from anger anymore, Jack could tell, he was thinking about what he'd just heard.

"Last night, when ya asked what I was doin' in '63, that was a pretty far out question, and then ya didn't even seem surprised by the fact that we could've meet that summer. I'm assumin' either you're a tougher sonofabitch than I thought, or ya'd already been thinkin' on that fer a while, thinkin' bout the book and everythin' that we've been steerin' clear of since we got up here."

Ennis placed his hands on top of Jack's. He shook his head in doubt. Jack waited, giving Ennis a chance to speak.

"I'll try." His voice was quiet. "I'll try, but yer gonna have ta help me, I'm not too good at talkin' bout stuff like this. But I'll try."

Jack smiled, all his anger and annoyance vanished. "That's all I ask."

He stood up, looked around.

"All right, now how d'ya wanna do this? How will ya be most comfortable?"

Ennis shrugged. "Jeez, I dunno."

"What if I sit on one side a' the log and you sit on the other, back ta back. Ya don't have ta see me, if it helps."

Ennis ducked his head. "Do we have ta make such a big deal of it?"

"This is me helpin' you." He motioned to himself and then to Ennis. "_Me_ help _you_."

Jack elicited a small smile from Ennis, which is what he wanted. He hopped over the log and sat down with his back resting against it. He waited. After a couple of seconds he felt Ennis move and sit on the ground directly behind him. Jack smiled.

"All right, first things first. What d'ya think the book is? Where d'ya think it came from?"

"I dunno."

"Ennis…"

"Hold on, I'm puttin' my words together. Goddamn, don't rush me!"

"All right, all right, sorry, sorry."

"I tried thinkin' 'bout where it came from, thinkin' 'bout how it could a' come ta be, but I can't think of anythin'. I can't imagine how some woman could know about my whole life. I…I don't know."

Jack thought. "Yeah…hmm…guess that wasn't the best question ta start out with. I don't have any more answers than you."

"I _have_ wondered about other people readin' it though."

Jack froze. "Oh, yeah? I hadn't thought about that…" Liar.

"Well I have. It's been troublin' me fer a while. I mean, what if my family read it, or Junior! She's even met you, and…d'ya know if anyone down in Texas has read it?"

"No." Why wasn't he telling the truth? "I don't think people down in Childress are much fer literature."

"Well I guess that's a relief then."

Jack pushed away thoughts of Leroy and focused on something else Ennis had said.

"So, ya wouldn't want anyone ta find out about the book? I mean ya wouldn't want anyone else ta know what it said…?"

Ennis sensing what Jack was getting at was quiet for a second.

"Jack, I jest meant…"

"I think I know what ya meant. Don't need ta explain."

Ennis looked down. "All right."

Jack was silent. Ennis turned around and touched him on the shoulder.

"I still don't really know what I want, Jack."

He bit his lip. "Really." It wasn't a question.

"I dunno what else ta say. I know ya probably got all these ideas 'bout how we could find a way ta live together."

"You know me too well."

Ennis smiled sadly at the back of Jack's head. "Wish I could know ya better."

Jack turned around. "Then why don't ya wanna live with me? I don't understand!"

"You ready fer everyone ya know ta suddenly treat ya different? You want yer own family ta act like yer some kinda freak? You ready ta leave yer granddaughter? Tell me _that_, Jack."

Jack was silent. Ennis looked down. "I don't understand this either, and I'm not sayin' I _don't_ wanna live with ya! I need more time ta think about it. It's only been a week, Jesus, you expect me ta know what I want in that time?"

"I knew what I wanted the minute I saw you."

It was the hard truth, and it tasted bitter in Jack's mouth, but he didn't want to lie about this.

"Jack, I told ya how I felt."

Jack turned away again and crossed his arms.

"Yeah, I remember. And I'm glad fer that, at least."

They were silent, and finally Ennis turned away too, leaned against the log, exhausted from the brief words they'd shared.

"We can't stay up here forever. As much as I want to. We have ta go back down, but down there it's different, down there people look and judge."

"Thought you said we were gonna write our _own_ version a' the story, don't seem too different right now."

His words were cold and cutting. He wanted Ennis to feel what he was feeling.

"We still are. I'm jest…goddamnit, I don't know what I am!"

Jack could hear Ennis take several deep breaths. When he spoke again his voice was barely over a whisper.

"I'm sorry. I told ya I'd try, and I have, but there's just nothin' else ta be said right now."

He stood up, looking down at Jack's head.

"Let's get packed up. I still have a week off. You can stay at my place again. We'll see how it goes, okay? Maybe by the end a' the week, I'll know what I want."

Jack didn't stand. He was silent, trying not to let Ennis' words hurt him.

"Till that time, jest keep buildin' that dream fer us you got brewin' behind yer eyes. Don't give up Jack. That's what I need from ya. I won't give up if you won't."

Jack nodded. Finally he stood and helped Ennis take down camp.

* * *

They took down the tent (easier than they'd put it up) and cleaned up their campsite, buried their compost, gathered their trash and cans and all their gear. They did this in silence—it was as though they'd used all the words they were allowed when they'd had their "talk" and now there were none left.

It an easy walk to the trucks despite Jack's soreness in his knee and hip (going down hill was always easier at least physically) and there was a remarkable lack of complaining from Mr. Twist. Once they got to their trucks and were loaded up, they stopped, looked at each other expectantly. Ennis broke the silence.

"Yer gonna follow me, right?"

Jack was looking down, trying, but not succeeding, to hide his sadness. "Yeah, once we get outta this tight stretch, I'll fall behind you and let ya lead."

Ennis nodded, knew Jack understood the situation, but wanted him to understand more. He walked over to where Jack was leaning against the door of his truck and put one hand on his shoulder, gave it a squeeze. Jack met his eyes.

"This is not the last time we're gonna come up here, ya understand? I swear that ta ya."

"You swear?"

"I swear."

They kept their eyes locked, both knowing what he meant. Ennis was not the swearing kind, but he felt some sort of promise needed to be spoken, some sort of reassurance that though he still wasn't sure what he wanted, he knew that whatever he decided would somehow involve Jack Twist, if he would have him. He wanted Jack to know that, had to make it clear, had to make sure he understood that Ennis loved him, though he found the words hard to speak. He did what he could though, and that's all Jack asked, right?

Jack smiled, the serious mood evaporating. He clapped Ennis on the back.

"All right, let's get goin' then. Come on, cowboy, daylights a' wastin'."

Ennis smiled and gave Jack's shoulder another squeeze. He turned and got into his truck.

* * *

It would take an hour and a half to make it back to the little white house Ennis called home. Jack was glad to have the quiet time.

The ride back was easy enough. Once Jack got out of the stretch of trees (slightly difficult driving in reverse the whole way down) he simply followed the older Chevrolet all the way back to Riverton. Not that he would have had that much trouble on his own, he'd made it to Brokeback with no direction fairly well before, hadn't he? It was more of a safe guard for Ennis, Jack figured. He could rest easy as long as Jack's F-150 was always in his rear view mirror.

"_That way he won't have ta worry 'bout our little "talk" upsettin' me too much and sendin' me packin' in the opposite direction."_

He didn't understand Ennis. Well that wasn't quiet true, what bothered Jack the most was that he _did_ understand him, could sympathize with his motives, but at the same time, didn't share them. Ennis really made the most sense, take it slow, see what works, give it some time, they could go from there. Sure, sure, that was just swell, but Jack wanted Ennis _now_. He'd never been an impatient person, but then again, he'd also never wanted anything so badly.

So Jack could understand Ennis' worries, his hesitance to just pick up and start a new life, because granted Jack should feel a little hesitant too, right?

_"And what about Eliza, huh? Ennis even mentioned her, how do you feel about that?"_

Jack rolled down his window and lit up a smoke. Eliza. Well Eliza was a whole other subject, wasn't she? He shook his head. He really didn't want to leave his granddaughter, his little girl, the light of his life…

_"She could come and visit. Spend time with the two of us. I'm sure she'd love Ennis."_

Jack shook his head in disbelief. Once he had his sights set on something there really was no backing down. He knew he shouldn't be so eager, so willing to leave his sweet girl, but…

_"Damnit, she's got parents! She's not my daughter!"_

Jack knew that argument was pointless and he felt a little guilty for even thinking it. Eliza was as much his daughter as anyone's; he spent enough time with her.

_"But Ennis…well, Ennis is something special. She'll jest have ta understand."_

Now if he could only make the man himself understand.

_"So he thinks me stayin' with him fer another week will help him figure out what he wants…sure."_

But a week spent with Ennis was a pretty damn good week.

Jack tossed his cigarette out the window, tired of the sour taste it was leaving in his mouth. He hoped Ennis knew what he wanted by the end of the week. It was unlikely, but all he could do was hope, right? Hope was the rock Jack clung to, because he didn't want to imagine leaving Ennis at the end of the week if things were still up in the air. In fact, Jack didn't want to imagine leaving Ennis at all, but he knew he couldn't stay with him forever.

Everything had changed in only a week, and now Jack wasn't the same person he'd been—he didn't know if he'd been changed for the better, but he was sure as hell that he'd been changed for good. It was hard to picture going back to Childress and carrying on like nothing had happened, like the sky hadn't opened up, like he hadn't just had the week of his life.

Jack flipped through several stations on the truck's radio, couldn't find much except preachy talk shows, so he turned it off completely, figured silence was better for his thoughts anyway. Jack's mind returned to Childress. When he'd been in the mountains, he'd barely had a thought that went beyond the man who'd shared his tent with him, and he had to wonder how things were going down there. He hadn't told Lureen how long he was going to be gone, because at the time he hadn't known, and he hadn't called her since.

_"I shoulda gotten in touch with her or somethin', jest ta be decent…"_

Yes, he should have, but he hadn't, so he just told himself that he would when he got a few free moments at Ennis' house. But when he was with Ennis it was hard to think of much else. Still though, he hadn't even said goodbye to Lureen. He'd left her at the barbeque with the McGuire people. She was talking to a group and he figured she wouldn't want to be interrupted, so he'd made like a bee and buzzed off. Jack bit his lip. It had been a mistake, sure, but there wasn't' much he could do about it.

_"Not now anyway."_

He made a mental note to call Lureen as soon as he got to Ennis' place and then let all his thoughts slip away, distracted by the road that stretched in to the distance as far as he could see.

* * *

"You can make yerself at home. I'm jest gonna take a quick shower, feel like I've been wrestlin' with a pig."

Jack laughed when he got an image of Ennis mud wrestling with a family of hogs.

"Now that's somethin' I would pay ta see."

"Well save yer money."

Jack walked into the family room out of habit and set his stuff down on the couch. He felt happy and warm to be back under Ennis' roof, felt like he'd come home.

"Ya can put those in the bedroom if ya want."

Ennis was making his way to the bathroom, and his words had been barely audible. Jack heard though, had always had fairly good hearing and smiled at the shy way Ennis had about him sometimes. It reminded him how lucky he was to have this man open up to him, to trust him, to call him friend. Jack smiled. He picked up his things and walked into Ennis' bedroom just as Ennis closed the bathroom door behind him, gently. Jack noticed that this time he did _not_ lock it.

Ennis' bedroom was pretty much what Jack had expected: small and bare, but not without its own personality. He had a queen-sized bed with a plain oak headboard. A nice red and blue quilt lay on top of the covers, it looked like it was hand made, most likely by his daughter Junior. Next to his bed there was a wooden nightstand (also handmade, Jack saw from the rough cut of the wood) and a lamp with a big wooden base that had been carved to look like the head of an eagle. On the floor there was a worn woven rug and a pair of boots. Across from the bed stood a chest of drawers with two picture frames displayed on the top—one of Junior at her wedding and another one of a fairly younger woman (Jack assumed it had been taken several years before) which must have been Francine. In the picture a young blonde headed boy was sitting on her lap. Jack studied the picture, and smiled. It was amazing, the boy's resemblance to Ennis even though he was his grandson. Jack supposed it was true after all that family traits skipped a generation.

After giving the bedroom a thorough once over, Jack put his duffel and sleeping bag on the floor next to the chest of drawers and walked out the bedroom. He didn't hear the water running anymore, so he knocked on the door.

"Hey, Ennis, is it okay if I make a phone call?"

"Sure go ahead."

Jack smiled thinking about Ennis wet with only a towel around his waist. If he hadn't promised himself he wasn't going to get distracted, he would have done more than knocked on the door. That could wait till later.

He walked into the kitchen where the phone was perched on the wall and picked it up, dialed his familiar number and heard the familiar phone recording in Lureen's voice.

"Hello, you've reached the Twist residence. We're not home right now, but leave a message at the beep and we'll get back ta ya as soon as possible."

Jack didn't bother leaving a message figured he'd just call back later. He hung up the phone and looked around the kitchen, once again glad to be "home". Suddenly Jack realized he'd left his hat out in his truck, and for some reason the idea made him uneasy. Not that it really mattered, but he wanted to have everything he needed inside with him, wanted it all there. He went back over to the bathroom door, but didn't bother knocking this time. He opened the door so he could poke his head in and wasn't surprised to find Ennis exactly as he'd imagined him, looking into the mirror shaving, only a towel around his waist.

"Now why in the hell d'ya keep buzzin' around here? Can't a man shave in peace?" He didn't take his eyes off the mirror.

"Jest hopin' ta catch ya in the middle a' some indecent act."

Ennis laughed and shook his head, flicked some shaving cream into the sink.

"Actually was jest gonna let ya know that I'm goin' out ta my truck fer a second, forgot somethin'."

"All right."

Jack backed out, closing the door and then went out to his truck. It was late afternoon, the sky was clear, and everything was quiet. Jack whistled a little tune down to the curb where he'd parked. Things seemed to be looking up. At the moment, he didn't even care that Ennis hadn't "figured out what he wanted", he was just glad to be alive, glad to be with him.

He got to his black F-150 and opened the driver's side door just as he heard a familiar tune. At first he was puzzled, wasn't sure what it was or where it was coming from, or why he recognized it, and then all at once he realized it was his cell phone.

"Shit!"

Jack dove into the car, frantically searching for the phone, not knowing where he'd put it, in fact, he'd forgotten that he'd even brought it. The phone stopped its obnoxious electronic chime, and Jack cursed. He finally discovered it; it had been buried under the various maps he'd used and the empty bag of beef jerky he'd bought on the way to Wyoming.

He picked up the small phone in his hand, a foreign object after weeks in the wilderness. He squinted to read the little screen and gasped when he saw what it said.

_42 missed calls_

"Holy shit!"

42 missed calls? How could that be possible? Jack pressed some of the buttons, trying to figure out how to see who had called. He eventually got to the screen that showed missed numbers, and immediately began to panic when he saw they were from Lureen, Marla, and Bobby—all 42 of them.

"Jesus…"

A cold fist curled in his stomach and he pressed the redial button, calling Marla's cell phone, which had been the most recent number on the screen. The phone rang once, twice, each time building the dread inside Jack, and then someone picked up.

"Hello?" The voice sounded panicked, tired and a little raw.

"Marla? Sweetie, it's Jack. What the hell's goin' on?"

"Jack, oh my God, Jack! Thank Jesus!" He heard her pull the phone away from her ear and announce him to whoever else was with her. She came back on.

"Jack it's been horrible here, and we didn't' know how ta find you…"

Her voice was breaking and Jack could tell that she was crying. He wished he could reach across the miles and take her in his arms, soothe her, anything to stop her from making such pitiful sounds.

"Marla what's happened?"

She took in a shuddered breath. "It's Eliza…"

Jack froze. He'd thought that was it, but had hoped his feeling was wrong. "What happened…?" He could barely ask the question, didn't really want to

know the answer.

All he heard were sobs. He waited. He felt the sweat start to collect on his back.

"Marla?"

"My baby…my poor baby…"

"Oh God, Marla, please tell me what happened…"

Jack felt panic try and take hold, but he wrestled it back down somehow. He heard a loud voice off in the distance and then the noise of the phone switching hands.

"Jack, where the fuck are you?" It was Lureen.

Guilt washed over him. "I'm in Wyoming."

"Why haven't ya been answerin' yer calls?"

"I've been campin'. I forgot my cell phone in the truck." His words sounded pathetic even to him.

"Ya've been out campin' while yer own granddaughter was dyin'!"

Jack sucked in a breath. "What? Lureen, what happened?"

Lureen was quiet for a moment, not doing a very good job at hiding her anger, but eventually bringing her voice down to an even tone.

"We thought she was jest havin' a sudden bad bought of asthma. Turns out she's got pneumonia. The doctors say it's been developin' fer a while now, and we didn't even know."

Jack remembered the way he'd last seen her, how she'd had several coughing fits, how she'd been going to the water park that afternoon.

"Jesus." He could have stopped her. He could have stopped her. He should have been there.

"How is she?"

"We don't know if she's goin' ta make it. The doctors are doing everythin' they can for her, but they say it doesn't look good. Unless she makes some sort of miracle recovery…we might lose her."

Jack swallowed. "I'll be there soon's I can. I'm leavin' right now."

Lureen made some sort of sound, most likely of disapproval, with her throat.

"All right. Drive safe."

Jack hung up the phone. He dropped it in his jean pocket and ran back into the house. All he could think was how fast he could get to Childress if he drove 90 mph the whole way.

He threw the door open to find Ennis, fully dressed, sitting at the kitchen table with two beers, one for himself, one for Jack. He stood up the minute he saw the state Jack was in.

"What's wrong?"

Jack stopped and brought his hand to his mouth, bit on the side of his nail. God he hated to leave, hated leaving Ennis, but nothing could make him stay.

"Ennis I've gotta go."

Ennis frowned, opened his mouth in shock. "What?"

"I…have ta go." He couldn't stand around talking; he rushed into the bedroom and grabbed his things, brought them into the living room. Ennis walked out of the kitchen, met Jack at the door.

"Jack, come on, slow down, what's the matter?"

He put one hand on Jack's shoulder, turned him towards himself. His eyes were full of concern. Jack knew he had to explain.

"My granddaughter, Eliza…she's in the hospital with pneumonia. They've been tryin' ta reach me fer a while." He felt his eyes mist over.

"Ennis, I might loose my little girl…"

Ennis bit his lip, grabbed Jack and pulled him into his chest.

"I'm so sorry."

Jack soaked in the feel of Ennis' arms around him, whispered, "So am I," quietly into his neck.

He pulled away and looked into Ennis' face, realized that if he was going back to Childress, he had to come completely clean, had to tell Ennis the whole truth about Leroy and the story if he was going to rest easy. Though how he'd ever rest easy with his little girl in the hospital dying, he had no idea.

"Ennis I have ta tell you somethin' before I go. I have ta tell ya the truth 'bout somethin' real important."

Ennis nodded, hands still on Jack's shoulders, not wanting to break their contact. Jack took in a deep breath.

"I lied when I said I didn't think anyone read the story down in Childress. I…think someone did, someone I used ta know."

Ennis clenched his jaw. "Why d'ya think that?"

Jack looked away. This was hard to say, and he was wondering if he still wanted to go ahead with the truth.

"My granddaughter…she told me. She's friends with the man's—Leroy's daughter. She overheard him talkin' 'bout me, callin' me a…callin' me a faggot."

He could only whisper the words. Ennis looked away, but gripped Jack's shoulders harder. Jack saw Ennis swallow, and then he turned back to meet Jack's eyes.

"I don't want ya ta go."

Jack winced. "Ennis I gotta go."

"You didn't' let me finish. I don't' want ya ta go, but I know ya have to. I'd do the same thing if I were in yer shoes. But that don't change the fact I don't want ya ta go, makes me sick thinkin' on you goin' back down there."

Jack started feeling the pressure of the clock. He reached out for the doorknob and twisted it.

"Ennis I have ta leave, I can't stand around no longer. I'll be careful, I promise."

Ennis nodded, and then suddenly tightened his grip again.

"Wait, Jack. Wait right here fer one second. I'll be right back, just hold on, please."

He turned away and ran down the hall, into this bedroom. Jack stood impatiently tapping his boot on the ground, bags in hand. He'd never felt so torn. The only place he wanted to be was with Ennis, but he couldn't stand to stay another second. He took in a deep breath and was about to go on out side when Ennis came back out and strode up to Jack with something in his hands.

He didn't hesitate, swept Jack up into a bear hug, pressing their bodies together, and pressing what he had in his hand into Jack's. It was soft, some piece of material and Jack grasped it firmly in his hand. He whispered into Jack's hair.

"Bring it back to me, take it, but bring it back."

Ennis pulled away and grabbed Jack's face in both his hands, brought their mouths roughly together, kissed him frantically, tasting him like he may never again have the chance.

Ennis broke the kiss, but kept their foreheads touching together, he ran his thumb over Jack's cheek, whispered, "Little Darlin'" in the softest, gentlest voice he could manage.

They stood there for a minute, looking into each other's eyes, soothed by the close contact, and then Jack parted their bodies. He opened the door, not checking what Ennis had stuffed in his hand until he got out to his truck. He wasn't very surprised to see that it was a shirt, the shirt that Ennis had worn on Brokeback, the shirt that Jack had accidentally taken.

Tears in his eyes, Jack brought the plaid material up to his face, breathed in the scent, immediately feeling the rush of the mountain air and getting a sense of Ennis close by, the shirt thick with the smell of cigarettes and the forest. Jack shuddered. He felt his chest tighten, knew he didn't want to leave, but knew that his place was with his family for the time being, the family he'd left back in Texas. He took one more deep breath, inhaled what he could from the shirt Ennis had given him to guard, and then laid it out carefully on the seat next to him. He turned the ignition in the truck and pulled away from the curb.


	18. Interlude

_Author's note: This is not chapter 18. This is an interlude consisting of three drabbles that take place during the time I skipped over while Jack and Ennis were on the mountain. Mostly cutesie and comical, but enjoyable none the less, I think. Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

"Did you bring any painkillers?"

Jack was kneeling by the small stream splashing water over his face. He'd just finished shaving and was trying to ease the burn from using a razor with soap lather instead of shaving cream (he knew he'd forgotten something.

He sat up, patted his face dry with a towel and looked over to Ennis sitting on a log and inspecting the bottom of his foot.

"Painkillers? I might have some aspirin. Why?"

"I cut my fuckin' foot on a rock by the waterfall."

Jack stood and walked to the tent, tossing his towel over a tree branch as he went. He crawled in, shoved aside some clothes that were strewn over the ground and found his duffel bag. He reached inside and fished around until he felt a familiar plastic bottle, then returned outside to Ennis.

"Here ya go."

Ennis took the bottle and looked it over skeptically.

"What's wrong?" Jack frowned, hands on hips.

Ennis squinted, reading some fine print.

"They're expired."

"What?" Jack snatched the bottle away and found the date hidden near the bottom of the warning label.

_November 1999_

"How'd ya even see that? I thought ya had bad eyes."

"I can see when I need to. Anyway, I'm funny 'bout pills. Don't take 'em that much."

Jack pushed the pill bottle back into Ennis' hands.

"Well they'll still work, jest won't be as strong."

"But they're old."

"Fer cryin' out loud, Ennis. If ya want the goddamned pills fer yer foot take some. There's nothin' wrong with 'em."

Ennis gave Jack an uncertain look then finally poured two pills into his hand and swallowed them.

"Is the cut deep? Does it hurt real bad?"

"Not too deep—not bad enough ta need stitches anyway. But, yes, it hurts like a fucker otherwise I wouldn't a' asked fer anythin'. Got a pretty good tolerance fer pain."

Jack sat down next to Ennis and nudged his shoulder affectionately.

"Didn't seem like it was hurtin' ya too much earlier…"

Ennis smirked. "Yeah, well, I was a little distracted."

Jack chuckled. "You want me ta kiss it n' make it all better?"

Ennis rolled his eyes. "Shut the fuck up, Twist."

Jack laughed, deep and full. "Ya know that seems ta be yer favorite thing ta say ta me. I'm startin' ta think I should jest lop off my tongue or somethin'."

Ennis looked down at his foot, avoiding Jack's eyes, making himself busy.

"Jest consider it a endearment."

Jack smiled wide. "All right. I can live with that."

* * *

"Do you smell that?"

Jack sat up in the early morning light, pushed the sleeping bag down from his naked chest.

"Smell what?" Ennis mumbled into the covers. He was curled up on his side still half asleep.

"It smells like shit!"

Ennis rolled onto his stomach. "Well, don't look at me."

Jack chuckled. "No, I'm bein' serious. Smells like somethin' rotten mixed with a little cabbage n' onions."

Ennis moaned. "What the hell're you ramblin' on about, I—"

Ennis started to sit up and then crinkled his nose.

"Damn. Now _that_ is rank."

"Ah ha! I told ya! What the hell is it, Ennis?"

Ennis sat up completely, sleepy look still plastered across his face.

"Smells kind a' like a calf that has blackleg—only worse by 'bout ten. Might be a dead skunk?"

"Smells like the devil ta me."

"Yeah well you wouldn't know a skunk from a hole in the ground."

Jack puffed out his chest. "Now what in the hell is that supposed ta mean?"

"Mean's you ain't been out in the wilderness fer ages, so stop yer bellyachin' while I figure out where the hell that smell's comin' from."

Ennis tossed off the sleeping bag, pulled on his pants and crawled out of the tent. Jack searched for his own pair of pants and then struggled to crawl and button.

When he got outside he was immediately struck by the smell—overwhelming his senses, causing him to nearly gag. He brought his arm up to cover his nose and mouth.

"Jesus Christ!"

Ennis was standing by the offending object smeared just outside the tent. It was a skunk, ripped up and rotting only two feet from the entrance.

"Holy fuck! This thing looks like it's been rottin' out here fer weeks."

"Told ya it was a skunk. Looks like a coyote left us a little gift."

"I don't care if it's a fuckin' moon man, the smell makes me wanna puke!"

Ennis held his hand up to his nose. "We're jest gonna have ta roll up our sleeves and clean it up."

He looked over to Jack, eyebrows raised. Jack took a step back.

"Why the hell're you lookin' at me?"

Ennis shrugged, shooed a fly away from his face.

"Yer jest so damned sexy…"

"Oh, bullshit. Yer tryin' ta sweet-talk me in ta takin' care a' that disemboweled skunk. You got another thing comin' ya asshole."

"I figured, you know, since ya haven't been out in the wilderness fer a while, it might be good ta reacquaint yerself with some dirty work. I could make some breakfast, and…"

"Hold on." Jack help up a hand, not liking the direction the conversation was going. "Why can't _you _clean this up while _I_ make breakfast? Yer the ranch hand here, yer used ta this sorta thing."

"Yeah, and I'm on vacation."

Jack glared at Ennis. He stood there for a minute, kicking dirt around then finally he straightened up and smiled.

"Okay, let's play fer it."

"What?"

Jack waved Ennis over, away from the offending skunk corpse.

"Rock, paper, scissors. Let's play fer it."

Ennis looked doubtful. "Are you serious?"

"Completely."

He fisted his hand and held it out in front of him expectantly. Ennis stood, unmoving, then finally sighed and held his hand out too.

"Okay."

Jack smiled. "Ready?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Okay, I'm gonna say 'one, two, three' and then we start."

Ennis nodded.

"All right. One…two…three…Rock—"

Ennis surprised Jack by prematurely thrusting his hand out flat in the "paper" gesture. Jack stopped.

"You did it too early."

"No, I won." He pointed to Jack's closed fist. "Paper covers rock."

Jack laughed and shook his head.

"I didn't even get a chance ta go."

"I though you were jest countin' ta three."

"And then I was goin' a say, 'rock, paper, scissors, shoot!'"

"Hell, ya didn't tell me all that."

"I thought ya already knew! Everybody knows that!"

"Well I don't sit around playin' games with myself all day!"

"Goddamnit, Ennis!" Jack threw his hands up in the air.

"Okay, okay, let's start over."

Ennis held his hand out in a fist and waited for Jack to participate. Jack hesitantly joined.

"This time I'm jest gonna go 'rock, paper, scissors' okay?"

"Yep. Got it."

Jack eyed Ennis wearily then squared his shoulders.

"All right. Rock, paper, scissors, shoo—"

Ennis held his hand out like a pair of scissors before Jack could finish.

"Ennis, what the fuck?"

"You said you were gonna say 'rock, paper, scissors' and so I shot!"

"Yeah, but yer s'posed ta go _after_ I say '_shoot'_!"

"I don't know were ya learned yer skills, but that ain't the way I play."

"Oh, this from Mr. I don't sit around playin' games with myself!"

Ennis held his hand up, silencing Jack.

"Nope. You loose by default fer bein' too fuckin' confusin'."

He smiled. "Have fun. Think I brought some tomato juice in the food bag, if that helps."

Ennis walked to the fire pit to start breakfast, leaving Jack standing with his mouth open and his hand still in a loose fist.

* * *

Jack took a long swig of whiskey and then passed the bottle to Ennis. Ennis grabbed it, nodded a 'thank you' in his direction, and took a swallow himself.

"Wait, wait…wait, Jack, go back…whut were ya sayin'?" He slurred.

Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and belched under his breath.

"Was I sayin' somethin'?"

"Yeah, you was talkin' 'bout that one time at the rodeo…"

Jack furrowed his eyebrows, thinking. "I'm always talkin' 'bout that one time at the rodeo…"

Ennis took another swig. "No, remember? You were talkin' 'bout that one fella from Russia…"

"Shit, I finished tellin' that story near twenty minutes ago."

Jack grabbed the bottle from Ennis. "Yer drunk. I'm cuttin' you off."

"Yer drunk too."

"Yeah, well, 'parently I can hold my liquor better n' you."

He lifted the bottle to his lips and took pleasure in the way the warm alcohol burnt all the way down his throat to his stomach. He wiped his mouth again and settled back against the log.

"All right, so this one time probably back in 64 or so, me n' this fella name a' Bud were waitin' around the registration table, ya know, checkin' out what sort a' competition we were goin' ta have, and who had straggled in from the last town."

He took another drink.

"So anyway, we were standin' there, jest shootin' the shit, when this big guy walks up ta the registration table. I'm talkin' big, like a fuckin' lumberjack or somethin'," Jack stretched his hands over his head to demonstrate. "6'5, huge beard…mean lookin' fucker."

Ennis nodded as though he understood and wasn't drunk off his ass.

"Naturally, me n' Bud get a little closer to the table, tryin' ta figure out where the hell this goliath came from. Turns out he's from Russia, doin' who knows what in no man's land Oklahoma, fuckin' around with the rodeo cuz he's, get this, 'jest a little bored.'

"He was pretty much done registerin' when the guy at the table realizes he's got this huge plastic satchel, travel case. Looks like somethin' kinda threatenin', and in those days, I'm sure you remember, anyone with a accent was interrogated like they were all fuckin' spies. Anyway, the guy at the table makes him lift up the case so it can be inspected."

Jack paused for affect. "Know what was inside?"

Ennis shook his head.

Jack waited a moment longer before answering. "Kittens."

Ennis frowned. "Kittens?"

"A fuckin' Russian with a litter a' kittens. Turns out the family he'd been stayin' with had a cat that was birthin' and gave the litter to the Russian cause he was a fan a' cats. Wierdest fuckin' thing I ever saw."

Ennis crinkled his nose in doubt. "Kittens…"

"Did I stutter?"

"That's a fuckin' weird story, Twist. Beats the hell out a' some a' yer others."

"It's out there, but every word's truth."

Ennis cleared his throat and sat up. "You wanna pass me that bottle, there, bud?"

Jack took another sip and them screwed the cap on, held it back from Ennis.

"Dunno. All this liquor goin' ta keep ya from gettin' it up later?"

"Hell no! What're you talkin' bout? I got an iron will. Like a steam roller."

Jack laughed as Ennis stood and stumbled towards him. He plopped down and grabbed the bottle away from Jack, took a sip then tossed it aside.

"Sex all you think about, Twist?"

He brought his face close to Jack's, their lips almost touching. Jack's heartbeat began to pound in his chest and he felt his dick start to tingle.

"It is when I'm with you."

Ennis chuckled seductively and slid his hand down in between Jack's legs, rubbed his growing erection through his jeans. Jack closed his eyes. Ennis licked a trail from Jack's neck to his ear, whispering.

"Why you dirty, little, son…of…a…"

Suddenly he was still. Jack's eyes flew open.

"Ennis?" He shook the man leaning against him.

"Ennis? You fall asleep?"

He grabbed him by his shoulders and pushed him away so he could see his face. Ennis' head rolled back and Jack could now hear soft snoring. He sighed, then wrapped his arms around the comatose man and tried to stand.

It took him a couple of tries but he finally got on his feet and had Ennis under the armpits. He dragged him back to the tent and somehow got him inside, then pulled off his boots and jeans and covered him with the sleeping bag.

Jack sat back on his heels and wiped sweat from his brow. He looked down at sleeping Ennis.

"I'll tell you what, you owe me one big time in the mornin'."

Jack took off his shirt and laid back, easily slipping into a deep sleep.


	19. Chapter 18 part 1

Childress, Texas

August 1, 2000

5:17 a.m.

Jack slowly got out of his black F-150 (plaid shirt in hand) and slammed the door behind him. He left his luggage in the back of the truck, didn't feel like messing with it at the moment, though he _did_ grab Ennis' shirt, wouldn't have wanted to leave that behind.

He dragged his exhausted body up the cement steps to the laundry room door. He turned the handle, found that it was locked, and cursed under his breath. After fishing his house key out from his pant's pocket and fumbling to get it securely in the lock, he opened the door. He hesitated before stepping inside, took a deep breath, then walked into the house he felt was no longer his.

The lights were off, but he hadn't expected anything less; it was early morning and Lureen usually didn't get up until seven, didn't have to be at the office till 9 or so. He shrugged and shuffled into the kitchen, barely able to lift his feet off the ground. He was suddenly reminded of the days when Lureen was always getting onto Bobby about picking his feet up when he walked. Jack chuckled tiredly to himself.

_"Can remember the days when my mama used ta get onta me 'bout shufflin' round too. Guess it's a Twist boy family trait."_

Jack's chuckles were cut off immediately when thoughts of Twist family traits led him back to Eliza. Jack winced and pushed his worries away, trying to tell himself that nothing bad had happened during the night, that she was still in her hospital bed, that she wasn't dead yet.

"_Jesus, Jack. Calm down. Nothin' you can do 'bout it right now, so jest relax, okay?" _

He told himself he just needed to get some sleep, a little shut eye, and then he could get up in the morning, go see Eliza _who was still alive!_ But the thought of sleep also stopped him in his tracks. Jack stood aimlessly in the living room, starring down the hall at the closed door of bedroom him and Lureen had always shared. He knew she was in there, all set for the night, masked, frosted, curled, and all sorts of shit, and he just didn't have the desire or the energy to go lay in bed with her. He looked down at the plaid shirt in his hand.

_"Somethin' 'bout it seems wrong, anyhow."  
_Jack shook his head. He couldn't do it. Instead, he felt his way to one of the guest rooms they had at the opposite end of their large ranch house and sprawled out on top of the bed the minute he was in the door, not bothering to pull down the sheets, never releasing the shirt from his hand.

Jack was so exhausted he wasn't sure he could sleep. He blinked.

_"Yer jest makin' all kinds a' sense this mornin'."_

He chuckled to himself. Honest to God, his body was so tired; he couldn't fall asleep. He flipped over on his back and stared at the ceiling. Part of it might have been the fact that he'd gotten used to sleeping on the ground for a week—sleeping in a bed seemed slightly foreign.

_"You mean sleepin' without Ennis seems foreign."_

Well that too. Jack turned his head to the window and looked out side at the fading moon in the brightening sky, looked out to the horizon where he could see the first light from the sun, that hazy sort of light that fills the sky right before the sun pokes its head up from the ground. Jack smiled. Up in Riverton Ennis would still be sleeping, being able to sleep past five with a week of vacation left. He'd be alone in his bed, curled on his right side the way he liked, his shirt off, his face the mask of peace, snoring softly.

Jack felt a ball of emotion form in the back of his throat and he swallowed hard, forced it back down to where it came. He brought the shirt up under his head and rested his face against it like a pillow.

_"Like you said before, there's nothin' you could a' done but leave. You jest did what ya had ta do, and that's that."_

But it still didn't change the fact that he ached deep inside his chest; that his lungs hurt, that his back hurt, that his bad hip and knee hurt—everything seemed to hurt for Ennis. What he would have given to spend that extra week with Ennis, just like the "old times"; drinking, talking, fucking—fantastic.

Jack rolled back onto his stomach, face completely in the shirt, Ennis' smell enveloping him, and then covered his head with a pillow. He felt horrible.

The whole way back to Childress he hadn't listened to the radio at all, only the sound of the wind blowing against his truck, the sporadic rain, and the occasional whoosh as an 18-wheeler passed him. Soft, sad sounds to keep him company on the lonesome road.

He'd tried driving straight through the night from Ennis' house, but by the time he'd hit the New Mexican border, he'd been about to pass out. He'd had to pull over, told himself it wouldn't do anyone good if he fell asleep and crashed into a telephone pole. So he'd parked at a little rest stop and had tried to make himself comfortable so he could relax his eyes. He dozed for a restless two hours—constantly plagued by dreams and the subconscious urge to keep going. He woke and kept driving.

Driving against the slate morning sky gave Jack a sense of calm that he'd been lacking before he pulled over to sleep. He'd realized in the early dawn, twelve hours after leaving Wyoming, six hours after making his way down I-25 through Colorado, that no matter how fast he drove, he wouldn't be able to get to his granddaughter until the hospital opened for visitors. The urgency had suddenly disappeared, but the worries had remained, strong as ever.

Jack rolled onto his back again and took in a deep breath, attempted to clear his mind—no such luck. He looked at the clock and saw it was almost 6 am. His thoughts returned to Wyoming, and Jack had to wonder if Ennis was having as hard a time sleeping. He turned his face away from the clock and the window and stared at the wall for a few seconds, then finally closed his eyes.

The possibility of having asked Ennis to come to Texas with him crossed his mind. When he'd first gotten the call, he'd been completely consumed with worry and fear, and he hadn't even considered it. Of course now it was too late, and besides, Jack wasn't sure if Ennis would have agreed. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made that Ennis _didn't _come with him (how would he have explained showing up with his fishing buddy from Wyoming?). But no matter how inconceivable it seemed, it was an extremely comforting idea.

Jack sighed. It hadn't happened that way, so there was no use thinking about it too much. He opened his eyes again. He had to stop the cogs from turning wildly and get to sleep—he needed to get _some_ rest before he went to the hospital.

Thoughts of the hospital brought the cold fear hurdling back, and Jack squeezed his eyes shut against images of a rainy day in the graveyard, mourners standing silently in a line, dressed in black suits and dresses, a small coffin with lilies—her favorite flower. Jack's body shook with a heavy sob and he felt the repressed tears start to fall over his nose on to the shirt that laid under his head.

He didn't know what he'd do if she died. He'd be lost; he'd be crippled without his little girl, crippled with guilt because he hadn't been there when she needed him—her small body, born with bad lungs, defenseless without the protection of her parents and her "Poppa". He should have been with her to protect her, but…

Jack wiped the tears from his face. He tried once again to calm his tired mind, to soothe his weak body till sleep was possible. Jack let thoughts of the cool mountain air and the endless blue sky fill his mind—the smell of pine and cooking bacon and the sound of running water from the stream near by. He smiled as he neared sleep, as he neared his true home.

The mountain sheltered him in the early morning hours.

* * *

Jack woke with the sun streaming in the window, shining on his back, making him warm and uncomfortable. He sat up slowly, groggy and still tired, head pounding, and slightly unsure of his surroundings.

He felt like he'd been hit by an 18-wheeler—his neck was stiff, his muscles sore, his throat dry and painful. He swallowed slowly and then put his feet on the ground, noticing how he hadn't even taken off his boots. He sat on the edge of the bed, blinking for a few minutes, then suddenly realized he was in the "green" guest bedroom of his own house (Lureen had decided to theme the three guest rooms; red, green, and blue). The door was closed, but he couldn't remember if he'd shut it or not.

He got up and slowly left the bedroom to walk into the kitchen. He stood by the breakfast table, one hand rubbing his sore hip, trying to figure out what was different about the room. All at once it hit him: there were no dishes in the sink, no food lying out like usual—it looked like the kitchen hadn't been used since Jack had left. Now honestly their kitchen usually wasn't _that_ messy, but Lureen was often too busy to clean, and dishes and food ended up scattered around until she got tired of seeing it and either forced Jack to clean or actually did it herself. Sure she'd been at the hospital with Eliza, but this looked positively unlived in.

Jack shrugged. He wasn't sure, but he didn't feel like standing around and pondering the idea all morning. He took a quick look at the clock on the wall and saw that it was nearly ten in the morning; he'd been asleep a little under four hours—enough to a least keep him from passing out during the day.

He walked to the fridge to see what kind of food there was, and once again had a little shock when he saw that it was practically bare, no substantial food except some quickly aging bananas and condiments.

_"Jesus. She been eatin' at all, or she been livin' at the hospital?"_

Jack shut the refrigerator door and stood in the kitchen scratching his head. It was probably better there wasn't any food; he didn't want to waste any more time, so he could get to the hospital as soon as possible. He crossed to the sink, splashed some water on his face and then stood up, drying his hands and forehead with the loose tail of his shirt.

He walked past the oven door and caught his reflection in the black metal. His hair was sticking up a little and he ran his fingers through it to try and coax it back down—there not bad. But, he couldn't do much about the dark circles under his eyes; they couldn't be rubbed away. Jack blinked a few times, rubbed his face sleepily and then moved past the oven door, tired of looking at the worn old man. He grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter and headed outside to his truck.

* * *

When Jack arrived at the hospital, he realized he didn't know what room Eliza was in. He scanned the floor plan near the entrance, but that did him no good, since he wasn't sure if Eliza had been moved to the children's ward or if she was still in intensive care. He asked the front desk what floor she was on and found out she was still in intensive care (or ICU as the woman at the desk called it), which was on the sixth floor—room 611 A.

After waiting at the elevators for what seemed like an eternity, the doors opened and he was crammed into the small space with six other people, two of which were in wheel chairs. Jack sighed and pressed himself farther into the wood paneling, smiling and nodding "understandably" when and old woman apologized for rolling over his foot.

At the sixth floor, Jack squeezed his way past the crowd and onto the strangely bare sixth floor. He did a quick check of the room numbers, saw that 611 A was down the right hallway somewhere and started to make his way past the nurse's station.

"Excuse me, sir. You can't just walk back there."

Jack stopped and turned towards the voice.

"Sorry?"

A young blonde girl was standing up from her seat behind the nurse's station. She had her finger placed on top of a red button. She eyed him wearily.

"You have ta check in here with me first."

Jack blew out a big breath and walked back to the station.

"All right. Let's get this over with."

The young girl took her seat behind the counter—made him wait till she was situated—then patiently folded her hands in front of her keyboard and gave him an annoyed look.

"Who are ya here ta see?"

Jack immediately disliked her. He couldn't put his finger on why, but something about her demeanor rubbed him the wrong way.

"I'm visitin' my granddaughter, Eliza Twist. I was told she was in room 611."

The nurse's dirty blonde hair looked greasy and unwashed under the fluorescent lights, there was red lipstick on her teeth.

"Are you in her immediate family?"

Jack gave the girl an odd look. "…Yes…I'm her grandfather."

The nurse's dull grey eyes rolled in their sockets. She lifter her pointer finger and chewed on the nail.

"I'm afraid that's not the _immediate family._"

"What? That's fuckin' ridiculous!"

"Sir! Please, you're gonna have ta keep your voice down."

Jack took in a deep breath, bit the inside of his mouth.

"Even if that made any sort a' sense, how would ya explain that my wife, Eliza's _grandmother_, has been visitin' her since she's been here? Tell me that."

The nurse sighed. "Well, I don't know 'bout that. All I know is that only immediate family is allowed inta ICU, that's a policy and there's nothin' I can do about it."

Jack leaned on the counter, got close to her face to make sure she heard him.

"Now listen ta me. You're jest gonna be a sweet lil' girl right now and let me go on inside, all right? No more trouble, okay?"

She pursed her lips and flipped her hair.

"I'm sorry, there's nothin' I can do."

Jack hit the counter. "Godamnit, I'm her grandfather, I have a right to see her. I spend more time with her than her father does anyway!"

Jack stepped back from the nurse's station, pointed to the young girl behind the counter.

"I wanna speak with yer supervisor, right now. I'm about four feet from bein' royally fuckin' angry, and I don't think you wanna deal with that."

The blonde kept her cool. She folded her hands in front of her once again and told Jack in a level voice that she was the only one on post at the station at the moment.

"I'm sorry. Have a nice day."

A vision of reaching across the narrow counter top and grabbing the nurse's neck in both hands suddenly crossed Jack's mind. He looked across the room at the clock: half past ten. He couldn't stand around. Then he remembered the cell phone in his pocket.

He took a few steps back to the elevator so he could be out of the young nurse's hearing range, and pulled out his phone, found Marla's number and dialed. In a few rings she picked up.

"Hello?" Her voice was quiet and tired, but not as panicked as it had sounded before.

"Marla, I'm right outside ICU. The nurse at the station won't let me pass, because apparently I'm not part of the fuckin' immediate family. Could you come out here?"

There was silence for a second then a few words were exchanged with someone else in the room.

"All right, I'll be out in jest a minutes. Hold on."

Jack hung up the phone and took a seat on the couch that was against the wall right out side the elevators. The nurse busied herself with a magazine.

* * *

"Jack! Jack! Thank god!"

Jack stood when he heard his name called. Marla was walking quickly in his direction, a knit sweater hanging from her small frame, her light hair up in a loose ponytail, her large mouth a knot of concern. He opened his arms to her and gladly gave her a long bear hug—a comfort to both of them. He pulled back and looked her in the eye, suddenly horribly aware of all the pain she'd gone through in the past few days just by the lines around her eyes and the way it seemed she'd aged ten years since the last time he'd seen her.

"How is she?"

Marla pulled away and wrapped her arms tighter around her body—how she could have been cold was beyond Jack's comprehension.

She shook her head. "Not much better than when you called yesterday. They've got her stabilized, her fever is down right now, but it's still over a hundred, and it just climbs back up when the sun starts to go down."

Jack hissed. "So the fever hasn't broken?"

Marla sniffed and wiped at her nose with the loose sweater. "No. The doctors say she won't be able ta take much more if the fever doesn't break. Her body can't handle it, and she's been dehydrated now for two days; it took 'em a while ta get the I.V. in her because her veins collapsed just like last time."

Her voice, already shaky, broke. "I don't know if you can understand what it's like, to fear losing your only child every time evening falls."

Jack grabbed the small woman and pulled her to his chest, ran his hand over her hair, hushed her and rocked her. Her shoulders shook Jack could feel wet against the collar of his shirt. He felt tears sting his own eyes. It was hard to console her when he felt her pain. He couldn't loose his little girl—_they_ couldn't loose her.

"She could go anytime now. I don't know what to do. I'm falling apart. I can't loose her; I'll die if she dies. I will, I know it."

He squeezed his eyes shut and gave Marla one last tight squeeze then released her.

"Come on. Let's go see her. I wanna see her."

Marla nodded and led Jack down the right hallway past the nurse's station. Jack gave the girl behind the counter and tip of his hat and a wink.

"_Fuck her."_ He thought with much satisfaction.

The hallway they were walking down was narrow and dull—the hall lined with white tile, dirty gray drop ceilings and green-stripped wallpaper. There were a few posters of classic paintings and a couple nature photographs in black and white. As they neared room 611 A, Jack suddenly stopped. Hanging just outside the door to Eliza's room was a black and white print of a mountain lake by Ansel Adams. Printed on the bottom of the poster were the large words, _Grand National Teton Park_. Jack paused a minute, took in the clear water and the reflection of the peaks, the surrounding meadow and clear sky. He sucked in a breath.

Marla, who'd been standing next to him waiting, put one arm on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, misreading his hesitance. He looked down at her and saw she was giving him the best smile she could manage. He smiled back. Marla walked past him into the hospital room, and Jack followed.

Jack immediately felt that tight knot of emotion return to his throat when he saw his little girl and he took off his hat. She was so small laying in the bed with its two guardrails—white against white pillows and white blankets. Her forehead was slick with sweat and there were breathing tubes in her nose, an I.V. in the top of her hand. The skin underneath her eyes was bruised and purple, her face sallow, her cheeks sunken. There was a curtain separating her bed from the one on the farther side of the room near the windows, and the only sound was the day time talk show that the adjacent patient was watching and the slow steady beat of Eliza's heart monitor.

He took in a breath. He hadn't noticed at first, but there sitting next to Eliza's bed was Lureen. She was leaning against the back of the chair, her heeled feet crossed at the ankles, her hands folded in the lap of her business suit. Her hair was straighter that usual (just as blonde he noticed, though), and she wasn't wearing as much makeup. Her eyes were cast down, and Jack couldn't tell if she was sleeping or looking at the floor.

He ignored her momentarily and stepped to the side of Eliza's bed, set his hat at the foot, and then gently took her free hand in both of his and kissed it. Her hand was limp and so small, Jack felt like the gentlest squeeze would break it. He released it, layed it down carefully on the rough hospital blanket and took a step back.

"Baby, I am so sorry. So sorry." He shook his head, felt tears welling in his eyes, wanted to fight it, but figured if there was ever an opportunity to cry, this would be it.

"You should be sorry."

Jack heard Lureen's words from behind him, cold and full of anger. Marla moved to the opposite side of the small bed and sat in the chair, settled herself down to watch the blipping line of her daughter's heartbeat.

Jack took in a breath, and turned around, faced his wife. Her face was blank, her eyes distant like she wasn't looking at him.

Her lips trembled slightly and then she took in a breath.

"Where've ya been, Jack?" The angry edge to her voice had dissolved, and now it was quiet, trembling, full of emotion like he hadn't heard in years.

Jack bit the side of his mouth, played with his hands.

"I told ya, I was out campin' in Wyoming…"

She looked up at him, eyes full of tears, mouth puckered, visibly trying to keep them from falling.

"You didn't tell me how long you'd be gone. You didn't even say goodbye. You…" A single tear made a wet track down her cheek, wetting her caked foundation, smearing her light mascara.

Jack bit his lip, nearly drawing blood.

"_Damnit. Damnit, look what you've done. It's all fucked up, damn you."_

He'd been so selfish. He hadn't thought of anyone but himself, hadn't considered what he was messing with, how he was hurting others, how he was affecting another life, another human being, the woman he'd lived with for thirty four years, the woman he'd started a family with.

Jack was overcome with guilt; he suddenly saw what he'd somehow lost track of: his wife, the woman he _had _loved, hell, the woman he still loved in a way—his family. He had a vision of Lureen, laying in her bed, hair all brown and perfect, soft, pink nightgown a vision with the blue bundle held against her chest—Bobby.

They'd had so many hard times, some good times, but she'd stayed by him through it all, as a friend and a partner. Maybe she wasn't the one he should have been with, the one that he could have loved selflessly, the one he would have died for, but she was still the one he'd married and now she was the one he'd hurt.

He watched the tear slide down her chin and blossom on her gray silk blouse.

"Lureen, honey, I'm so sorry."

And he was. He was sorry for everything; for not being able to be the husband she'd needed, for not being the dedicated business man she'd wanted, for not being here when she'd needed him, when his granddaughter needed him, and most of all for not being able to love her the way she deserved, the way he loved Ennis.

He kneeled down by his wife, put his hand on her shoulder, touched her chin.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't here with ya. You hear me? I'm so sorry. I had no idea anythin' like this would happen, you understand?"

She was silent. He waited for her to respond and was suddenly surprised when she turned her head and shrugged his hand off her shoulder.

"Don't touch me, Jack." Her voice deep and bitter.

Jack sat back on his heels, confused and a little offended. He'd been trying to console her, to show her some of the support God knew he owed her. He frowned and slowly rose to his feet. He was quiet, waiting for her to continue.

"You think that's gonna make it all better? You think that's jest gonna solve everythin'?"

Jack didn't' know what to say. "No…but I'm tryin'. That's all I can do right now."

Lureen turned her narrowed eyes to him. Her tears had dried and her face was a mask of resentment.

"You fuckin' asshole. Do you know what I've been through while you were away on yer little fishin' trip? Do you have any idea?"

Jack looked down. He knew he had this coming. Suddenly he heard the chair behind him screech on the tile floor and Marla stood up.

"I can leave for a few minutes if you'd like."

Jack turned to look at Marla with her wide, wet eyes, and too big sweater. He turned and looked back at Lureen, make-up streaked, eyes angry. He faced Marla.

"It's alright, honey. Me n' Lureen'll jest step outside. You stay right in here with Eliza. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Jack motioned for Lureen to follow him outside. She stood and straightened the front of her blazer jacket, wiped underneath her eyes with the tips of her painted fingernails. She sniffed, nodded her head once, and then click-clacked her way out into the hallway. Jack picked his hat of the bed, tipped it towards Marla, gave her a smile and then put the Stetson on his head and followed Lureen out the door.

She was standing a few feet down the hall with her back to Jack, hugging herself tightly. Jack came up behind her, but didn't touch her shoulder this time, just coughed softly to announce his presence and waited for her to turn towards him. She kept her back to him for a few seconds and then finally turned, face blank from anger and from tears.

Jack took in a breath. "All right. Now you can say what you want. Go ahead."

Lureen frowned and shifted her weight to one hip.

"Tell me this, Jack. Why do ya always make me out ta be a bitch? You're always the poor 'put upon husband', sad and abused by his over bearin' wife."

Jack raised his eyes brows in surprise. He started to say something but Lureen cut him off.

"You have ta admit ya set yourself up that way. And I can't stand it."

She uncrossed her arms and let them hang at her sides.

"I'm tired of always bein' the bitch. I'm tired of it! Why can't we fer once turn it around ta show _me_, the 'poor wokin' woman' tryin' ta keep her family together and tryin' ta get her husband ta show interest in _somethin'_, tryin' not ta be the bitch, but always endin' up that way because I get so damned frustrated with the way yer never around, and the way you've never cared about our lives or tryin' ta make them better."

Jack was speechless, honest to God, absolutely speechless. He couldn't think of a thing to say, even though he knew there were so many things he wanted to tell her, so many things he wanted to express; how he'd never wanted this life, how he'd never been happy, how he'd always felt she hadn't needed him, how he'd felt he'd never be the man she wanted because what she _really_ wanted was a man like her father.

Lureen waited for a few seconds, looking into Jack's eyes, trying to find her own answer, when she got nothing she looked away.

"You can't know how upset I was that you were leavin' again, that you were goin' back ta Wyoming. You can't know. I was so angry." She shook her head.

"You left me there. People were askin' where ya went, and I had to tell 'em you had an emergency you had ta take care of. I couldn't' tell 'em that ya jest couldn't wait ta get away from me and go fishin' with yer buddy."

She looked down, wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, then took in a deep breath.

"Then ya don't call, ya don't let me know where you are, what's goin' on, how long yer gonna be there, if ya ever even made it there."

Jack broke his paralysis. "I'm sorry you were worried 'bout me."

"Would you stop apologizin'? And I wasn't worried 'bout you, contrary to what you may think. I was just fuckin' angry. Angry at you fer bein' the way you are, and you not callin' jest gave me more reason to be angry, just proved my point even more."

Jack flinched. Her words stung, but he wasn't very surprised.

Lureen took a step, put her hands on her hips and looked around.

"Jesus. I dunno what I'm tryin' ta say. I was hopin' ta get some sort of explanation from you, but now I don't even care. I really don't. I just hope what ever you were doin' was worth all this fuckin' trouble, that's all."

Jack remained silent. He looked down. Lureen waited once more for some word, for some response, but Jack wasn't ready to give her any. She sighed.

"All right." She fished around in her purse. "I'm leavin'. You're here now, you can take care a' this."

"What?"

"I've gotta get back ta work. Told Bobby I'd be in by eleven, so I could take over fer him." She shook her head. "Poor boy's goin' through hell, but someone's gotta hold down the fort."

Jack just nodded, still a little shocked by this whole confrontation. Lureen finally found what she was looking for, pulled out her compact and checked her hair and make-up. She shrugged, then closed the case and put it back in her bag. She squared her shoulders and looked up at Jack, her face unhappy, but no longer angry.

"I'll see you later. I'll come back by the hospital before I go to dinner tonight."

"You're goin' ta dinner tonight?"

She shrugged. "Business has to go on as usual. That's all there is to it."

Lureen took in Jack's shocked expression.

"I'll see you later." She turned to walk away then stopped.

"Tell Marla I'll see her later."

Jack nodded. "Sure thing."

Lureen hesitated a moment longer. "And…I'm glad you got here safely."

She turned and walked down the hall once and for all and Jack had to smile slightly despite his shock and mixed feelings. He supposed 'I'm glad you got here safely' was the closest he'd get to 'I'm glad you're here', which is all he could ask for.


	20. Chapter 18 part 2

Jack wandered back into 611 A, took his hat off and sat down in the chair that Lureen had just occupied. He let out a sigh as he leaned back and rubbed at his tired face, then folded his hands in his lap and watched his little girl sleep, breathing in and out, in and out.

"You all right?"

Jack looked up at his weary daughter-in-law. He'd forgotten she was there in his shock over the confrontation he'd just had. For the second time that day, Jack realized the pain and suffering that Marla had been going through simply by looking at her face—the way her usually large mouth looked thin and pale, the purple bags under her eyes.

Jack took in a breath and gave her a soft smile.

"Yeah, sweetie, I'm okay. Just tired." He straightened in his chair. "I'm sure ya know what I mean."

At the comment, Marla yawned, put her hand with its long fingers over her mouth and squeezed her eyes closed.

"Oh, s'cuse me." She shook her head as if trying to ward off the sleepiness. She smiled back at Jack.

"Really though, I'm not tired." Marla scooted her chair closer to Eliza's bed.

"Won't be able ta sleep till I know she's better anyway."

The small woman ran her hand up and down Eliza's small, pale arm. The sight of the two of them was enough to break Jack's heart.

"She'll be okay, I know she will." The words sounded forced and lame out of his mouth. He knew the truth as well as Marla; Eliza would die if the fever didn't break soon.

Marla nodded her head and sat back in her own chair, folded her hands in her lap, mimicking Jack's previous position. She kept a steady eye on him.

Jack caught her gaze and smiled again.

"Yes…?"

She shook her head and chuckled slightly. "Nothin'. It's just so good ta see you back. Fer a while there, when we didn't know where you were, I was so worried, I had no one else ta share my worry with."

Jack felt the guilt rise in his throat like bile once again.

"Now that you're here, I just feel better, ya know? It may sound silly, nothin' has changed, but just sittin' here with you makes me feel so much more…hopeful."

Jack was moved. He stood up from his chair and walked over to Marla, bent down and gave her a soft kiss on the top of her head, then grabbed her shoulder and massaged it a little.

"It's good ta be back, too. Fer you as much as fer 'Liza."

Marla leaned into the massage for a minute, then patted Jack's hand. He walked back to his chair and sat down.

"What were you doin' in Wyoming anyway?"

The question caught Jack off guard and he swallowed some saliva the wrong way, started choking and coughing. Marla sat up, alarmed, but Jack waved her away and was able to get control of himself.

He thought about his answer for a moment, then decided honesty (to an extent) was the best policy.

"I was on a fishin' trip with a buddy a' mine."

Marla was quiet for a minute.

"Oh."

Jack felt like she wanted him to go on, but he wasn't sure what else to say.

"Is he an old friend a' yers? I don't ever remember you goin' up ta visit him before…"

Jack cleared his throat. "Right. Well…we, uh, met herdin' sheep in the summer a' 63', been friends ever since."

The lie felt right to him, the way things should have been, the way they should have met. Jack saw that she still had a perplexed look on her face and coughed again.

"It's jest, we haven't been able ta see each other that often. He's a ranch hand, s'got a busy schedule."

She nodded in understanding. "I guess it was good ta see him then."

Jack took in a deep breath, looked past Marla at the bleeping heart monitor.

"Yeah, real good ta see him. Real good."

Marla played with her hands for a few seconds. She looked back up at Jack after a moment.

"I bet you're real sorry all this happened and interrupted yer vacation with yer friend. He was probably upset."

Jack shook his head.

"Nah, Ennis understands." It was the first time he'd spoken his name to anyone and it felt damn good to hear out in the open. Jack wanted to say his name to every one he knew.

"_Ennis, Ennis, Ennis…"_

Jack smiled. "Ennis understands, and nothin' could a' kept me from comin' home."

"_Not even the man you love."_

Jack shrugged, played with the front of his coat. "This is the only place I wanna be right now, and that's that."

It troubled Jack because he wasn't sure if he was lying or not. Marla seemed to eat it up either way though.

"I'm real glad you're here, and so's Lureen. She's been under a lot a' pressure these past few days. She wants ta be here, but someone has ta be at the office, and Bobby needs ta be here some a' the time." Marla shook her head. "It's just awful."

"I know it is. I know…"

Jack looked down at his little girl lying in the bed and felt a steel grip of dread wrap its way around his heart. He might have told Marla she'd get better, but honestly Jack wasn't so sure.

* * *

At a quarter after noon, Bobby came into the hospital room, brief case in hand, business suit pressed and neat, brown leather cowboy boots clacking on the tile floor. Jack found it amusing that Bobby was so attached to his boots that he wore them to work. Jack only wore boots outside the office, though he always had a hat with him. Bobby on the other hand never wore a cowboy hat (he said he found it tacky) yet everyday he came to the office with his expensive pair of leather cowboy boots he'd gotten from Dallas one summer when he'd taken Marla and Eliza to the city.

Bobby came in, purveyed the situation, and then set his brief case on the floor near Eliza's bed. He pulled out a handkerchief from his lapel pocket and wiped at his face.

"Good Lord it's hot out there. Damn."

He tucked the cloth back in his jacket and walked over to Marla's chair, gave her a peck on the cheek and a squeeze on her shoulder. He turned and faced Jack.

"Dad." His tone was curt, short, and emotionless.

Jack nodded his head.

"How ya doin' Bobby?"

Bobby loosened his tie and cleared his throat. "I guess as good as I can be under the circumstances."

Jack looked down at his own boots, not sure what else to say, not sure what he could do to console his son. He'd never been very good at communicating with the boy when he'd been young, and the trend had continued as he'd gotten older. Bobby had always been real close to Lureen and whenever he needed to talk he'd go to her.

Jack remembered one day years before, when Bobby had been twelve and had woken up from a wet dream. Lureen had discovered it after doing the laundry one Sunday, and she'd told Jack to go talk to him. Jack had been more than willing, finding a bit of excitement in the idea that his little boy was becoming a man. Jack had given him the spiel; boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy fucks girl, and all the while Bobby had been dead silent staring down at his feet. It may have been because the subject embarrassed him, but Jack had had the creeping suspicion that it was more because Bobby just didn't want to hear anything from his dad. When he'd finished talking, Bobby'd looked up, told Jack he didn't have any questions, and then left the room. Jack had been left sitting backwards on a undersized desk chair, staring at an empty, unmade bed, wondering what had just happened, and where he'd gone wrong.

All that was past now, but nonetheless, he still had the same trouble talking with his son, and he always looked back on that moment as the beginning of the end of their relationship. Jack looked up from the ground and took a good look at his boy—Jack corrected himself; Bobby was no longer a boy, he was now a man by a long run.

He was the spitting image of Jack, around six foot, black hair, blue eyes, similar build, but at the same time, he was different. There was an air of seriousness about him that Jack had never had—when he walked into a room, people immediately knew who was in charge, importance seemed to emanate from him like an aura of light. He didn't smile as much, and he could almost always be found in a business suit. Work, work, work, that was his motto, and he'd learned it from Lureen when he was in school. He'd had trouble with his studies as a child, had always had bad grades, had tried, but just couldn't seem to pull it together. Lureen used to pound the idea of work into his head.

"_You'll never get anywhere in life if ya don't work hard for it. Ya can't let yerself slip into a state a' mind that says, 'I can't', because ya can if ya try hard enough."_

It had been sound advice, but somewhere along the way, she'd given the kid a complex. He'd worked his ass off through junior high and high school, somehow graduating with a 3.2 overall GPA. It wasn't until the summer before he went to Texas A&M University, that they'd discovered the whole time Bobby'd been in school he'd been suffering from a learning disability called Dysgraphia, which meant he had trouble reading and comprehending things he'd learned. The doctor's were amazed that Bobby had gotten as far as he had, that it showed an amazing amount of determination and struggle. Lureen had never been more proud.

Jack sighed. When Bobby was real young, he used to tell Jack he wanted to be a bull rider just like his dad. Jack always got a huge kick out of that, thought it was sweet that his boy looked up to him. But then there was L.D., telling Bobby every day how bull riding wouldn't get him anywhere except penniless and busted up so bad that not even the national guard would take him, and he'd end up living off some poor unsuspecting girl he'd marry and make her miserable all the rest of her days. The whole while big necked L.D. would have his steely glare turned towards Jack, judgment and despise deep in his meaty face.

And now here he was, his grown son, a younger version of himself in looks and looks only, standing across the room, separated by the dying girl lying in the hospital bed. Bobby flashed his blue eyes in his direction, perhaps waiting for something else from Jack, but Jack had nothing to say.

Bobby put his hand on Marla's head, ran his fingers through her hair.

"How 'bout you go on home and get some rest."

Marla startled out of her daze. "What? No, I'm okay."

"No you're not. Go on. I'll be here, and so'll Jack. Just go home fer a couple hours and sleep."

"But what'll she do when she wakes up and sees I'm not here?"

"Honey, right now she's not gonna know the difference if you're here or not. She's in and out all the time. Go on. You don't wanna get sick yerself, now do ya?"

Marla looked over at Jack with pleading eyes. He gave her a little nod.

"Go home, Marla. We'll be here. Bobby'll call if anythin' major happens."

She stared at him, face blank for a few minutes, then bent over and picked up her purse, slung it over her left shoulder. She stood slowly, turned towards her husband.

"All right. I'm goin'. But you better call me, okay?" She prodded Bobby in the chest with her pointer finger. "I'll have my phone on."

"Will do."

She turned to leave, but Bobby stopped her, grabbed her arm and turned her back towards him.

"Come here." He whispered and kissed Marla proper on the mouth. She snaked her free arm up around Bobby's neck and returned the kiss with all her effort.

Jack smiled at the sight, happy to see these two able to comfort each other in their trouble, looking out for each other. Jack couldn't have been more pleased that his son found happiness so easily, and that despite all the trouble in _his_ own marriage Bobby had still somehow been able to learn to love and be affectionate.

The two separated and Marla left, giving Jack a smile before she went out the door. Jack smiled back and then watched as Bobby sat down in the chair Marla had been using. The two men were silent.

The heart monitor blipped, the overhead halogen light buzzed, the game show playing on the T.V. in the next bed booed and applauded. Jack fiddled with the buttons on his coat some more. Bobby tapped the toe of his boot on the smudged tile floor. Outside the door, quiet voices discussed, carts squeaked and clacked, elevators opened and closed. The world spun on.

"Yer mom was here a little while ago."

"I know." Bobby didn't look at Jack, his gaze strong as steel on Eliza.

Jack moved his tongue over his teeth, made clicking noises with his mouth.

"She goin' out ta dinner tonight? I mean, that's what she said…"

"Yeah with a couple a' the McGuire people."

"What're they doin'?"

Bobby looked up. "Is this what you really wanna talk about?"

Jack shut his mouth, surprised at Bobby's tone. "I'm jest talking. That's what I do; I make conversation with people so there aren't awkward silences."

"Well I'd prefer the silence, thank ya very much."

Bobby reached out and grabbed his daughter's hand. Jack sighed and leaned back in his chair. He felt a little annoyed, but he mentally lowered his voice before he spoke, so as not to rile Bobby up anymore than he already was.

"Why d'ya sound angry at me? Is this 'bout me bein' off on a campin' trip? Cuz that seems ta be the grand offense a' the day."

"I don't give a shit where ya were. It doesn't matter."

"Well than what's wrong?"

Bobby pulled his hand away from Eliza's and sat on the edge of his chair, adjusted his pant legs, then folded his hands and turned his attention full to his dad.

"This has nothin' ta do with you. I've been upset since this happened, my tone sounds the same with everyone so don't take offense that I'm bein' particularly short with ya. Just let me be with my daughter, okay?"

Jack saw that his son's face was just as tired as Marla's and he was starting to show some age around his eyes and mouth. He was in his thirties, and certainly, Jack didn't consider that old, but Bobby was no longer the bright-faced young thing he once was.

Jack nodded. "All right. I'll leave ya be fer a while. I'm gonna go have a smoke."

"Thought you quit."

Jack chuckled, realizing his slip but not really caring.

"Well…once a smoker always a smoker, I guess."

Bobby shrugged and turned back to Eliza, lost in his own thoughts. Jack stood, feeling the soreness in his hip and knee, and made his way towards the door. He took one more look at Bobby and then left him alone.

* * *

Jack tossed his cigarette onto the ground and smothered it with the toe of his boot. The tidal wave of exhaustion that had been threatening him for the past 24 hours was getting closer and closer to crashing down and swallowing him whole.

His thoughts returned to Ennis as usual. He gave a quick look around, saw that not too many people were out and so pulled his cell phone out of his pants pocket, stared at it long and hard.

_"I could jest give him a little 'how ya doin' curtesy call…I'm sure that would be okay…'less he ain't home."_

Jack looked around again. He was definitely alone. He walked a little distance to a wooden bench, sat down, and lit another cigarette. He looked at the keypad of his phone.

_"Sure would love ta hear his voice, though…"_

Jack took in a deep breath and dialed: 1-307-857-4286. The phone rang once…twice…three times…

_"Come on Ennis, answer the fuckin' phone…"_

Then the familiar sound of Ennis' voice and the answering machine message Jack had heard only a few times.

"This is Ennis Del Mar. I'm not home. Leave a message after the beep."

"_Damnit!"_

He sighed. "Hey Ennis, it's…Jack. Jest callin' ta say—"

"Hello?"

Jack stopped, not sure of what just happened. "Hello…?"

"Jack?"

Jack's heart starting racing. "Ennis? Were you screenin' yer calls?"

"I was sleepin' on the couch and the phone woke me, wasn't gonna get up n' answer it. Then I heard yer voice…well, I ran in here…"

Jack laughed at the image of Ennis jumping off the couch at the sound of his voice to answer his call. He smiled and took a drag of his smoke. Ennis continued.

"I used ta jest unplug my phone cuz I don't like gettin' too many calls here, but Junior started gettin' mad at me 'bout it…"

_"So that explains why it was disconnected the first time I called. Go figure."_

"And then I didn't want ta be cut off since you were gonna be down there..."

Jack smiled. "You been worried 'bout me, Del Mar?"

Ennis blew out a big breath of air. "That's puttin' it lightly."

They were both silent.

"So how you been down there? How's yer granddaughter?"

Jack put his head in his hand. "Ya know, I'm not too sure. Her fever hasn't broke; the doctors've done everythin' they can fer now. We just have ta wait and see how things turn out. I'll tell ya, the whole situation is a big fuckin' mess. Lureen is, hell I don't know what's wrong with her. She's got a whole bunch a' problems and then some, several a' them cuz a' me."

Jack blew out smoke through his nose. "Then there's Marla who's beside herself, and I can't blame her. And now Bobby's here, and he's treatin' me like I'm the worst fuckin' father in all the land. Damn. I dunno what ta do. I've only been here fer, what, eight hours?"

"Sounds pretty bad."

"Yeah it is…"

There was another moment of silence. Jack took another puff.

"I'm outside the hospital, givin' Bobby room and smokin' a cigarette fer my nerves, but none a that's helpin'."

He paused. "But damn, it sure is good ta hear yer voice."

Ennis was silent. "Yeah." He voice barely above a whisper.

"I sure do miss you. I've been thinkin' 'bout you practically the whole time I been here, feelin' like a shit fer it, cuz I should be thinkin' 'bout Eliza. Does no good though."

Silence. Jack wasn't surprised.

"You don't have ta say nothin'. I jest wanted ta let you know I miss ya, and wanted ta hear the sound a' yer voice. That's all."

Ennis cleared his throat. "Thanks fer the call."

"No problem."

"All right. Well, I guess I'll let you go."

Jack nodded, threw his cigarette on the ground. "Yeah, okay."

"Talk to ya soon, Jack."

"Wait, wait! Ennis, I jest remembered I had ta tell you somethin'."

"Okay…"

Jack took in a deep breath. He'd nearly forgotten. He'd been meaning to tell Ennis this, but hadn't had the chance, had figured he could get it in somewhere during their week together, but since that was cut drastically short…well…

"You remember how you said to keep up the hope I had fer me n' you bein' together?"

There was a pause. "Yeah…but Jack, 'fore you go any further…"

"Ennis listen ta me. Jest listen. I know yer 'not sure', n' all that shit, but jest listen ta what I got ta say. I jest wanna put the idea out there, okay?"

Silence.

"Ennis?"

"I'm waitin'."

"Okay. So I been thinkin' up ways that this could work out. You remember when I told you how I was jest stoppin' through Riverton cuz I was checkin' up on my parent's land? Up in Lightening Flat?"

"Yeah…"

"Well I didn't entirely make that up. Last I heard the land was sold again to the state and they were lookin' ta make it into a horse and cattle ranch, like it used ta be. I was thinkin' 'bout maybe buyin' it back from the state and, you know, seein' what I could do with it…what maybe we could do with it…"

Jack waited for some response. He got none.

"I jest wanted to put that out there, fer you ta think on. I don't know when I'll be able ta get back up there or when it could actually happen…so jest _think_ on it."

"All right."

"I'll talk ta ya soon, Ennis."

He'd pulled the phone from his ear, was about to hang up but Ennis' voice yellin' out the speaker, stopped him.

"Jack?"

He brought the phone back to his ear.

"Yeah?"

"You take care a' yerself, okay? Take care a' that shirt too, so you can give it back to me, you hear?"

"I hear ya." He heard him loud and clear.

"Okay. Be careful."

"See ya."

"Bye."

Jack hung up the phone, feeling better than he had since he'd left. Talking to Ennis did wonders for him. How he loved that man.

Jack stood and slipped his phone back in his pocket. He closed his eyes for a second, the exhaustion still weighing down on him, but then began to teeter and opened them quickly, catching himself against a cement pillar. Taking a nap would be too much of a tease for his state, and he didn't dare go home and sleep, so instead he just yawned and then headed back upstairs to the sixth floor.

* * *

He didn't have a problem getting back to the room, the young nurse that had been stationed at the front desk of the Intensive Care Unit was gone, presumably off duty or at lunch, and Jack figured it was just as well.

He got back to the room—611 A with its Ansel Adams print—and went inside. Bobby's position had barely changed. He sat in Marla's chair, close to Eliza, hand holding hers. His eyes were closed. Jack figured he was asleep so he made as little noise as possible when he went to sit down. But as he actually put his butt in the seat, the chair moved backwards and made a loud squeak against the tile floor. Bobby jolted awake, looked over at Jack. Jack made an apologetic smile and mentally kicked himself in the ass.

_"Jack, you klutz! The poor boy's exhausted; probably hasn't been sleepin' at all, and right when he dozes off you go and show off yer grace n' charm! Good goin'."_

"You back already?"

Jack settled down into his chair as gently as he could, fearful of making more noise even though Bobby was awake.

"Yep. Been gone fer a while actually…guess you fell asleep."

"Well can ya blame me?" Bobby snapped. He turned his eyes away.

"No." Jack looked down. The hostility was coming off Bobby in waves, and Jack decided he had to know why. He scooted to the edge of his chair, preparing himself for confrontation.

"Bobby, tell me what's goin' on here. Talk ta me."

Bobby shook his head. "I can't talk to you 'bout this. You can't understand."

Jack frowned. "Now why on earth wouldn't I understand? I'm a parent, aren't I? She's my granddaughter; you're my son…now come on. Talk ta me. I'm here; I'm listening."

Bobby was silent for a few minutes, frowning and running his thumb back and forth over Eliza's knuckles. Jack waited. For a few minutes he didn't think Bobby would say anything, but then he spoke softly, never tearing his eyes away from his daughters hand.

"It's my fault."

"What?" Jack leaned forward, thought he'd heard wrong.

"It's my fault because I was never there. I wasn't there when she needed me."

Jack's stomach dropped to the floor. His heartbeat pounded in his ears.

"Don't blame yerself, come on…"

This was too much. How many times had Jack told himself exactly that? He'd never even thought that Bobby would be feeling the same sort of guilt, that he would be blaming himself for Eliza's state.

Bobby wiped his lips with the back of his free hand, like he was trying to get some bad taste out of his mouth.

"If I hadn't been so preoccupied with work, and with the stupid McGuire merger then I could've spent more time at home, I would have noticed when Eliza started gettin' sick, we could've stopped it before it got so bad…we…"

Bobby's breathing became labored. He was obviously fighting back tears, didn't want them to fall in front of his dad. Jack just remained silent; he wanted Bobby to get this out of his system since surely he hadn't told Marla or Lureen about it. Surely Jack wasn't his first choice to confide in, but he was the only one there was.

Bobby cleared his throat, tilted his head back, trying to keep the tears from leaking down his cheeks. After a second he was back under control and he put his head down. When he spoke his voice was deep and quiet.

"I didn't wanna be the father that's never there. I wanted ta be different."

Jack took in a breath. _The father that's never there…_ Was that what he was for Bobby? He couldn't believe it. And he couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"I _was_ there. I was always there. You never came to me, though, always went ta yer mama or L.D." Jack paused for a moment. "I wanted ta be there fer ya…"

"What're you talkin' about? I _always_ wanted you there. I always wanted ta come to you but I thought you didn't want me to, felt like you didn't want _me_."

Bobby shook his head and stood, sitting too much for him at the moment. He paced slowly back and forth beside the bed. Jack followed Bobby with his eyes, not believing what he was hearing.

"What? That don't make any kind a' sense. I thought you hated me."

Bobby stopped in his tracks. "I _worshipped_ you! You were my dad, the bull rider, the cowboy! How could I not have?"

Jack stood. "Bobby…"

"Sit down, please, yer makin' me nervous!"

Jack hesitated then obeyed.

"I wanted ta be jest like you, always knew all that stuff L.D. fed me was a bunch a' shit. But then you were never there. I mean, it's not like ya traveled all the time or anything, you were home, but you weren't _there_, ya know? Sometime's you'd go a whole day never sayin' a word ta me, like you were ignorin' me or something."

Bobby stopped pacing and sat back down. He sat on the edge of his seat, foot tapping, nerves obviously running wild.

"I felt like you never wanted me. So eventually I did hate you. I hated you fer not lovin' me, when I'd loved you more n' anything..."

Bobby returned his hand to Eliza's and was silent once again. Jack, for the second time that day, was absolutely speechless.

"_All these things you never saw…all these things you were too blind ta see cuz you were unhappy…"_

How could Jack have been so wrong? How could he have misunderstood his son, so much?

"_Seems like my whole fuckin' life has jest been a big disaster. Feels like I hurt everyone I should a' been protectin'."_

Jack took in a deep breath. He stood and grabbed his hat off the bed.

"Bobby, I dunno what ta say. I s'pose there's nothin' I _can_ say that could make up fer all this, all these years…"

Bobby remained silent. Jack continued.

"I jest want you ta know, that I have _always_ loved you, even if I never showed it the way I should've. You've turned out ta be a better, smarter, more successful man than I could've ever been, and ta top it all off you have a family that loves you and makes you happy."

Jack smiled, felt emotion build in his throat. "I am so proud a' you, son."

He looked down at his boots.

"And if you'd like me ta go, I will. I figure you don't want me here distractin' you…so…I can jest come back later."

Jack paused, waiting for Bobby to say something, but when no words came, he sighed and walked to the door.

"_I guess it's too late to make amends…"_

He stepped out the door.

"Wait…Dad."

Jack felt a tidal wave of relief wash over him and he smiled to himself. He turned back towards Bobby. His son still hadn't taken his eyes off his daughter, was still looking down at her small body. The heart monitor blipped.

"You don't have ta go. She's yer granddaughter like ya said. You've got a right ta be here with her."

Jack nodded and returned to his chair. He sat down.

"Thank you." He took his hat back off, laid it gently onto the foot of the bed.

Bobby looked at him, not quite smiling, but with a soft expression on his face.

"Yer welcome..."

The two men sat in comfortable silence, neither needing to talk, everything worth saying already said. They were able to keep each other company amid the frightening surroundings of sickness.

* * *

Two days later, just when hope was starting to slip down the drain, Eliza's fever slowly but surely started to decrease. It didn't break, and the doctor's said that it still could go up, so the worst wasn't necessarily over, but if it continued to lower, she would start to recover.

Relief washed over the Twist family. Marla swore that God had answered her prayers, and Jack, though not a religious man himself, had to wonder if that wasn't the truth. Everyone was in a lighter mood now. Jack had gotten more rest, and was ever starting to feel better about his situation with Ennis.

It was Thursday afternoon, which meant there was the weekly staff meeting to attend at Newsome Farm Equipment, so Jack said he'd stay with Eliza while Bobby and Lureen went in to the office. So for the majority of the day, it was just Marla and Jack in the hospital room. Marla had brought some knitting, was making a winter scarf for Eliza, and Jack was playing solitaire on the side of the hospital bed. Eliza was asleep.

Marla set down her needles and looked up at Jack.

"She's asleep."

Jack was focused on where he could put the black eight that he'd dealt.

"Yep."

Marla leaned forward in her seat.

"Jack, can I ask you a favor?"

He finally looked up. "Sure, what ever you want."

Marla smiled. "Well, we've really been fallin' behind in the grocery shoppin'. I need ta buy some fresh vegetables and fruit…"

She repositioned herself in her chair. "Would you mind stayin' here with Eliza while I go out and do a little bit a' shoppin'? I'll be back in maybe an hour and I'll have my cell phone on the whole time."

Jack smiled. He found it endearing that Marla had to ask him to stay with Eliza, like it was some chore, like it was a big imposition that she had to go grocery shopping.

"You go right ahead. Take as long as you want, I got no where else to be anyway."

Marla smiled and collected her knitting supplies, stuffed them in her bag.

"I won't be but an hour. Thank ya so much, Jack."

"Now you act like this is a big favor. I'm here right now ain't I? I'm not goin' nowhere. Go on n' go. She'll be fine."

Marla stood and kissed Jack on the cheek before she left. Her face was no longer tired and pale. Some of her old familiar glow had returned and she didn't look half as helpless in her silly, oversized sweater. She left the room quickly, a flurry of yarn and bags and clinking needles.

Jack sighed and settled himself back to his game of solitaire.

"What're you doin'?"

Jack sat up, startled, and looked at Eliza. She's woken and was smiling softly at him, not being able to manage much more.

Jack, not being able to help himself, smiled back wide.

"Hey there, sweet thing. How you feelin'?"

She stuck her tongue out and made a sick face. "Pretty lousy…"

Jack scooted his chair closer to the girl, abandoning his cards at the foot of the bed.

"Feelin' lousy can be expected. You've been really sick. You jest need ta rest now so you can get better."

Eliza nodded her head and took in a shaky breath. She started coughing and grabbed at her throat, wincing at the pain. Jack picked up her water glass so she could take a sip. She did so gratefully and then sighed, relaxing back against the pillows.

"I'm so tired of coughing."

"I'm tired a' you coughin' too…we gotta do somethin' 'bout that."

Eliza smiled, didn't laugh though, it hurt her chest too much. It made him suddenly incredibly grateful he'd been able to spend so much time with her, that he'd been able to make her laugh so often. He'd taken her soft tinkling laughter for granted and now he'd give anything to get it back. But, her smile was the one of the sweetest things he'd ever seen and he thanked God that he at least got that.

Jack reached out a hand and brushed her dark bangs back from her forehead, at the same time feeling for a fever. She didn't feel too warm, but she was still slightly flushed, still warm. At least she was awake and aware of her surroundings. That was a major improvement.

She took in a steady breath and closed her eyes.

"I wanted to tell you…"

Jack leaned closer, not wanting her to strain her voice. "Yes?"

"I had a good time at Kelly Anne's birthday party. Even though they said that the water park probably made me sick, I still had a real good time."

Jack smiled. "I bet you did, honey. Did ya ride any scary slides?"

Eliza coughed a little again. "Yeah. I rode this big one called the Black Hole…it was real scary, but I didn't scream."

Jack grabbed her hand, squeezed it gently. She looked down at her blue hospital gown.

"I didn't think Kelly Anne's dad would be there, but he was."

Jack froze. Leroy. He'd almost forgotten about that sonofabitch during all the trouble at the hospital. His memory suddenly, unpleasantly came crashing back.

"He was." It wasn't a question. His thoughts were no longer on Eliza's time at the water park, they were busy trying to think of what to do, how to deal with Leroy, how to prevent anyone from getting hurt.

_"You mean how to prevent yerself from gettin' killed."_

Jack winced. That was a little harsh, but yes, deep down, that was something he'd been thinking about, and something he wanted to definitely try and avoid.

"Are you thinking 'bout her dad, 'bout what he called you?"

Jack looked back at his forgotten little girl, surprised by her words, though why he wasn't sure; she'd been the one who'd told him about Leroy in the first place. And thank God she had, the last thing he would have wanted was to be walking around oblivious, just inviting the tire irons. He couldn't tell her how much it troubled him.

"No honey. I don't need to worry 'bout all that, and neither do you. All you need ta think about it gettin' better, you hear?"

She smiled again, her big, bright beautiful smile. "Yes sir."

"All right. So long as you understand me."

Jack playfully ruffled her hair.

"Hey!"

"Hay is fer horses."

Despite her sickness, she was still able to roll her eyes and mime laughing.

"Very funny."

"I'm jest a funny sort a' guy."

"A real comedian."

"Yep."

Jack sat back in his chair. "How 'bout you rest yer eyes fer a while. Don't want you tirin' yerself out now."

Eliza obliged, obviously worn out from even the small amount of foolery. She closed her eyes and in a couple minutes was out cold.

Jack crossed his arms. He was glad she was asleep now; he needed time to think. He had to figure out what to do. He knew that he couldn't hide from Leroy the rest of his days, and he knew, unfortunately, that Leroy wouldn't be the only person that ever read the story. Anyway, if Jack actually went through with this "queer" thing, if he really made a go of his relationship with Ennis, then there would be a lot of people that would have a problem with them, and he would have to get used to being hassled.

So the question was, should he approach Leroy, or no?

Jack sighed. He figured the only thing to do _was_ approach the man, cut it off at the butt, before it got any worse. He had to do it soon too.

He looked back at his sleeping girl.

_"Can't do it right now, though. Have ta wait till later, when Marla get's back."_

Jack settled himself down to a long day of sitting and waiting. He knew what he had to do now, but he was still nervous as hell.


	21. Chapter 19

Ennis took another drag of his cigarette and a sip of his coffee. The morning air was cool on his bare chest but there was a hint of dryness (similar to the dryness felt when close to the Colorado border) and he could tell that it was going to be ball sweatin' by 8:00.

It was early, the sun was only a few minutes over the horizon, and for the third night that week Ennis hadn't been able to sleep. Sure, he'd tried, tried like hell to just let himself slip into darkness, but every time he'd get close, his mind would turn to Jack and his eyes would spring open and he'd have to struggle to get back to that border point—over and over.

The call from Jack on Tuesday had done some good, let him get a few hours of sleep Tuesday night, but then Wednesday morning the same worries and fears had resurfaced—the same visions of tire irons held high in the air, ready to strike, to kill.

Ennis had decided that morning that staying home the rest of the week was a bad idea. Sure, the majority of him wanted to sit by the phone waiting for Jack to call, waiting for the sound of his voice and the reassurance that everything was okay. But Ennis had never been one to lazy around and do nothing—it made him feel uncomfortable. He'd had maybe two months of vacation his entire life, so bumming at home was foreign to Ennis (unless he counted the time he'd been unemployed and had had to stay with Junior, but even then he'd done things around her house, made himself busy). So Ennis had gotten dressed and driven to the Owl Creek ranch, gave Stoutamire an unexpected surprise, and fell back into the pace of his day-to-day life.

But every minute of the day had been plagued with thoughts of Jack. And the more he tried to escape them, the more they bothered him, nagging him, picking and scratching at his brain till it was almost painful. Ennis left at 7:30, two and a half hours later that what he usually put in, making it a fourteen-hour day. He didn't' mind. The longer he stayed at work, the longer he could put off going back to his house, the emptiness nearly thick as smoke.

He wasn't hungry that night, as usual, but he drank a beer to calm his nervous stomach and he nibbled on a few peanuts—the salt good with the Bud. He sat staring at the television screen, the show _Survivor_ playing to a dead audience. After an hour he turned off the T.V. and checked the answering machine for the fifth time. Nothing. He went to bed. He didn't sleep.

And so here he was, Thursday morning, alone, exhausted, stomach still queasy, mind still troubled. He exhaled a lungful of smoke and then extinguished his cigarette in his full cup of coffee. He'd thought the coffee might feel good on his stomach, warm and comforting, but no such luck. The bitter taste only made him feel worse, the gag reflex working the back of his throat, leaving him with the constant urge to heave. Ennis leaned back, supporting his weight with his elbows on the rough concrete patio. He wouldn't give himself the satisfaction of puking, wouldn't give in to the weakness that threatened to consume him, because he knew there would be no hope after that.

This whole time he'd been fighting off his worries and his troubles and his feelings—denial, denial, denial (it had been a close friend for as long as he could remember).

Ennis looked out to the horizon; the sun had raised another few inches and soon it would be time for him to get his shit together and go back out to the ranch. The breeze blew again, and he was reminded of the fore coming heat. Most would be discouraged by the idea of working outdoors on a day like this, but Ennis only took it as a good sign—he couldn't be as miserable about Jack if he was miserable in general all day long.

He sat back up, tired of the cement making the skin on his arms raw, and lit another cigarette—his third for the morning. He snapped his lighter closed when he was done and tossed it in the grass at his feet, resting his arms on his knees, twirling the cigarette back and forth between the fingers of his right hand.

Ennis Del Mar had no real reason to be worried about Jack Twist.

First of all, just because he went back to Texas didn't mean he was going to get beat by some crazy redneck.

_"Course it's a possibility…"_

"Shut the hell up, Del Mar." He was talking to himself now.

The book was just fucking with him. There were a lot of similarities between it and his real life, and now it had him spooked. Especially since Jack had said that he thought someone knew about the book…knew about the book and had called him a 'faggot'. It seemed like too much. Too much to be a coincidence, surely, but at the same time, almost didn't seem real or possible. How closely could reality actually meet fiction? How could a stupid story follow his life? It just didn't make sense, and Ennis figured it never would. He'd decided it was no good to puzzle over it too much; it was a waste of thinking time, and Ennis had already covered every which way it could make sense hundreds of times.

He pushed the idea of Jack's death away—far away. That was something else that bothered him. Did he really have any _right _to worry about Jack Twist? He'd only known the man a couple months…he was acting like he'd known him his whole life. Jack was a man he'd met in a bar. Jack was someone he'd fucked a few times. Jack was apparently a queer man. Ennis was…

_"A fuckin', lyin' sonofabitch, that's what you are. You always been this bad at acceptin' the truth?"_

He sighed. He wasn't fooling himself. These were things he kept telling himself so he wouldn't be as lost, so he could try and avoid feeling like he'd recently had his left arm amputated and now desperately wanted it back, suddenly realizing all the things he'd needed it for and the simple comfort of having it there next to him.

Ennis cleared his throat. No matter how hard he tried to pretend, he couldn't reduce Jack to some guy, some fuck buddy that he'd known for a few weeks. Jack was…hell, Jack was _everything_. He wasn't sure how it'd happened, but in the matter of a few days, Jack had taken Ennis' boring, meaningless life and flipped it, spread it all over the place, shredded things that were in the way, and settled himself down to be a permanent resident. Jack was his friend, his buddy, his fucking _heart_. He'd shown Ennis this whole new way of life, a life that's full of laughing and warmth, and teamwork. He'd shown him there were always ways to make things work; Jack'd forced him to express himself when he would of just run and hid, pushed away all the bullshit, and told him to 'say it like it is', and somehow Ennis had been able to.

It was all crazy. He shook his head and chuckled, thinking about the funny way Jack had of saying things, or how he'd make a stupid face if Ennis ever started to brood—made his eyes all wide and raised his brows while puckering his lips like a fool (it never failed in bringing Ennis immediately out of his mood, even if he didn't always want to admit it). He _loved_ Jack. He couldn't believe it, but he did. Ennis Del Mar loved another man, something he would have _never_ thought possible in a million years. Yet somehow, it didn't seem that odd, felt natural. He'd always been taught that being queer was dirty and wrong, 'goin' against God' as his dad used to say, and maybe that wa true, but it couldn't have _felt_ farther from the truth.

Ennis didn't love Jack like he loved a woman. It was different…felt better. It might have been because Jack could understand him in ways that a woman couldn't, hell, in ways _no one_ could. Or maybe it was because they'd been friends first, honest to God friends. No man could ever really be "friends" with a woman. Guys might say it's possible, but all the while, they're imagining what it'd be like to get her into bed, or what she'd look like nude. Never worked. But Jack had been his friend. Closer than anyone…and that's how it felt. They were still friends, only…when Jack came close to him his stomach flopped and the back of his neck tingled. His dick hardened at the feel of Jack's breath on his neck, and he wanted nothing more than to see him helpless and pleasured by his hand, coming from his touch, moaning his name. Nothing more…

Ennis squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted Jack with him. Always? Ennis thought so... He hadn't been sure at first, even after actually saying the "three words", something he didn't even say to his daughters that often (he'd always felt like it'd never needed to be mentioned, always just been known). Even after that, he'd still been hesitant, just because that was in his nature. Ennis Del Mar was a worrier, a doubter, a pessimist, if you will. He always thought things through too much, often making people misunderstand, hurting them by his silence and hesitance. Ennis hadn't been oblivious the whole time up on Brokeback. He'd known they had to figure out what to do next, had known what he'd wanted, but hadn't actually had the balls to say it yet, to set it in stone. Hell, he still wasn't really sure…

And now he mentions this idea about Lightening Flat. Living together, making a life with Jack Twist, giving up everything he used to know, everything he was comfortable with. Okay, there wasn't much…but still, there was Junior. Ennis couldn't imagine what she'd think of all this, what she'd have to say to her daddy moving north, a day's worth of driving, to ranch up with a buddy? She wanted him to make friends, but really… Then there was Junior's baby. The paper work was almost finished, the mother almost to term, all they had left to do was wait. Alma and Curt; parents.

It was enough to return the warmth to Ennis' chest, to dull that constant ache. His girl was finally going to be a mother, and Ennis would have the grandchild he's always wanted—a little boy. Ennis had to wonder what he'd be like, what he'd look like. Well for one thing, he knew the boy would be loved, and most likely spoiled. Ennis chuckled. Did he want to leave the boy? It would be the second grandson he'd hardly ever see.

_"Lightening Flat's different than California."_

Which was true, but it might as well have been just as far with the amount of traveling Junior did. And she was guaranteed to do even less with a new baby. Ennis' thoughts turned to Texas.

_"Why'd Jack have to go an' leave? He'd be here right now, and we could lay in bed, maybe go ridin' later."_

Ennis hoped Jack's granddaughter was okay. He wasn't a praying man, but he'd offered up a few words, to God or whomever, that all was well with that little girl and that Jack would come back safely.

_"Come back…you talk like this is his home…his life's down in Texas."_

But the selfish side of Ennis wanted to think that Jack's life was in Wyoming now. He had no right to claim it, but he wished he was the most important thing to Jack.

_"You know that little girl is, though. And do you blame him? You feel the same 'bout yer daughters."_

True he did, but…it was different now. His daughters, specifically Junior, were the most important things in his life, but Jack was moving his way up there, elbowing into the mix, stirring it up like he'd done everything else.

Ennis extinguished his third cigarette with his thumb and forefinger, then tossed it into his cold coffee. He grabbed the cup and stood, judging it was close to six by the sun. He'd be late, but he didn't care, it was still his week off (technically) and he intended to work overtime again. He walked into the house, turning his back on the full sphere of the sun, and got dressed.

* * *

"Daddy?" 

Ennis dismounted Jenny Wren and stood in front of his daughter. He wrapped the horse's reigns around his knuckles and wiped sweat from under the brim of his hat.

"Junior? What you doin' here?"

It was noon and Ennis had been about to take his lunch break; he was on his way to the stable to put Jenny Wren back in her stall, when he'd suddenly seen a familiar figure approaching, short auburn hair bouncing, yellow knee length skirt billowing in the breeze. Purple toe nail polish sticking out like gems against the dull surroundings of Owl Creek.

The sun made her hair shine; turned it nearly red. She brought one delicate hand t her forehead to shade her eyes, looked up at Ennis.

"Haven't heard from you in a while. Wasn't sure if you were back from yer trip or not. I figured I could find you here, if anywhere."

Ennis kicked some dirt with his boot. He'd gotten so caught up in his worries since he'd been back and then with working that he'd forgotten to tell Junior what was what.

"Why haven't you called?"

He couldn't her eyes from the shadows on her face, but by the way her hand was shaking he could tell she was upset. He sighed.

"I gotta put Jenny in her stall. Be back in a second."

Ennis walked towards the stable, his horse clip-clopping after him, braying when a fly buzzed around her muzzle.

He didn't want to avoid his daughter, but he was always bad in emotional situations. He knew that he'd hurt her, worried her, and he was sorry, but he didn't know how to deal with that. Ennis handed Jenny Wren's reigns to one of the younger stable boys, felt bad because he usually rubbed her down himself and fed her a carrot, but he didn't want to keep Junior waiting for too long. He gave the mare a little pat on the neck, told her she'd been real good, then headed back into the sun where Junior stood, still as a statue.

Ennis approached her with his head down, watching the small shadow his hat made at his boots. He stopped when he saw her sandals a couple feet in front of him.

"Been workin' long hours. Only been back a few days." His voice was low.

She took in a shuddered breath. "You still didn't have time to call and tell me you were back, just to say a few words?"

He looked up. "Well…you usually call me."

Junior clenched her jaw and swallowed, something she obviously hadn't picked up from her mother. Her tone though, was all Alma.

"So I always have to make the effort? I always have to be the one to come seek you out, to come visit you?"

Ennis ducked his head. "No…"

"Yes. That's how it is, and you know it."

"Come on, darlin'…"

She wiped her nose. "Well I'm glad to see you're not dead. Here." She held out a paper bag she'd neatly folded. Ennis looked at it hard.

"What is it?"

"I made you lunch, just on the off chance you _were_ here."

He was touched. "Aw, Junior, you didn't have to go n' do that."

She looked down and shook her head. "I knew you wouldn't have anythin', you never take the time to make yourself somethin' healthy."

"You sound like Francine."

Junior chuckled. "Yeah, well, we're just lookin' out for you." She looked back up at him. "I gotta take care a' you, yer my daddy, and heaven knows you'd never eat a decent meal if it weren't for me. So just take it; it wasn't any trouble, just a sandwich and some fruit."

Ennis reached his hand out and carefully grabbed the sack from Junior's hand.

"Thanks." He mumbled.

"No problem." They were both silent for a few seconds. Ennis took off his gloves and stuffed them in his back pocket.

"You know, I'm not doin' much a' anythin' tonight. If you n' Curt aren't busy…maybe I could come by and say 'hello'". He looked over at his daughter hopefully, wanting to see the anger gone from her eyes.

She smiled softly. "You don't have to do it just to make me happy."

"Like ya said, I'm yer daddy…I _want _to."

She looked back up at him, squinty eyes from the sun and bright smile. She'd never looked more beautiful.

"I'll make dinner."

Ennis cleared his throat. "Now you don't have to go n' do nothin' fancy. But, uh…" He looked around as if someone would be eavesdropping. "If'n you got the right fixin's…I sure would love some a' them dumplin's you make."

Junior laughed out loud, a bright, crystal sound that brought a smile to Ennis' face, something he hadn't felt since Monday afternoon.

"All right. I'll see what I can do. Can you come over 'round six or so?"

"6:30?"

"Sounds like a date. I'll see ya tonight, Daddy." She reached up on her tiptoes and kissed Ennis' cheek, then rubbed the bit of lipstick she'd left off with her thumb. She smiled, and then with a whirl of soft hair and cotton skirt, she turned and bounded back to her car.

Alma Jr. looked just like a little girl as she walked away, could have been wearing pigtails and skipping down the street. Ennis felt his heart swell and he had to think again, how it would be to leave this wonderful girl—no, woman with her little boy on the way.

* * *

Ennis wiped his mouth with his napkin, set it down on the table, and let out a satisfied sigh. 

"Darlin', that was amazin'. Best thing I've eaten in weeks."

Junior stood and started collecting the plates. She blushed.

"Thank you, Daddy." Junior had always been real coy about praise, never was one to seek it, and always got embarrassed even when it was rightly due. Ennis just smiled. Curt stood and helped collect the dishes; Ennis went outside for a smoke. All seemed well.

When Ennis had arrived that evening (6:30 on the dot—he didn't stay at the ranch as late this time) he was greeted with Junior's smiling face and the smell of cooking chicken. She'd given him a tight hug—a wonderful comfort—and invited him into the living room to have a beer. He wasn't very surprised when she told him they were having chicken dumplings like he'd asked, and for the first time in three days he felt his stomach start to rumble from hunger.

They'd eaten a wonderful meal: dumplings, Junior's famed mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, and unbelievable chocolate cake to finish it all off. Ennis felt like he was going to explode…and he wouldn't of changed a thing.

Over dinner, Junior talked eagerly about the baby while Ennis and Curt smiled and nodded. Curt was amazingly excited about the baby as well, but like Ennis, he wasn't much of a talker. They both were happy just to watch Junior be happy.

After his smoke, Ennis came back inside and helped Junior with the rest of the dishes, which actually meant he felt bad for not helping so ended up putting the rinsed dishes in the dishwasher for her. When they finished, Junior took Ennis into the old "library" (basically where they put all their junk and a few books), which was going to be the new baby room. She had to show him all the new things she'd bought, and pointed out the cans of paint sitting around the room.

"We're gonna paint the walls yellow, and then Francine's coming in next

week—"

"Francine's comin' in next week?"

"Yep, she's bringin' Brandon. She's gonna be stayin' for a while to help out with the baby because I still have to work. Think she's gonna be livin' at Mama's for a while, but I heard she might be thinking of movin' back here. Not likin' California right now. Anyway, she's gonna paint the ceiling blue like the sky with white clouds." Junior looked up, as though picturing it.

"My baby's gonna fall asleep with visions a' heaven every night…isn't that wonderful?"

Ennis looked up too, trying to imagine what it would look like to have the sky inside the house. He couldn't.

"Sure is." He looked down at Junior, squeezed her shoulder. "Sure is, Darlin'."

Junior smiled. "And aren't you happy 'bout Brandon? Your gonna have both your grandkids here with you, how's that feel?"

Ennis cleared his throat, and swallowed hard. "Feels good." He tried to ignore that anxious feeling that was building in his chest, the feeling like he was trapped inside a wooden box. It was a horrible feeling to be having, especially in regards to his family, but he couldn't help it.

After a few more minutes in the baby room, Junior followed Ennis back outside for another smoke. She didn't have one of course; she's always thought smoking was a disgusting habit, and Ennis had to agree with her on that one. Didn't stop him though.

She rested her head in the palms of her hands.

"How was your trip to the mountains, Daddy? Did ya have a good time?"

Ennis took in a lungful of smoke, held it for a second then let it out.

"Yep. Had a real good time. Just what I needed."

Junior smiled. "Good." They didn't speak for a few mintues. She looked over at Ennis again.

"Did you go alone?"

He was silent. Junior waited for a response, and Ennis wasn't so sure he wanted to give one. He coughed, pulled his jacket a little closer to his chest.

"Uh, yeah. I went up there with my friend, Jack. Did a little fishin', a little drinkin'. You remember him?"

Junior's eyes lit up. "Course I remember him! I think he's just wonderful—so charming!" She smiled at some memory. Then her eyes returned to her dad.

"Last you told me, you'd had a fight. Did that work out?"

Ennis nodded and blew out more smoke. "We had a bit of a misunderstandin', but yeah, it worked itself out."

"So where's Jack now? Is he still here?" She looked around as if he would just pop out from the bushes yelling, 'Surprise!'

Ennis' eyes dropped to the ground. They were sitting in Junior's small back yard on some plastic lawn furniture she'd bought at Home Depot in Casper. He tilted his seat back slightly with his legs then let it land back to the grass with a soft thudding noise. Junior waited.

"He would a' been here. But, uh…he had to go back to Texas cuz he found out his granddaughter was in the hospital with pneumonia. She's a sick little girl, and I guess this is the worst it's ever been."

Junior gasped. "Oh no! Is she all right?"

Ennis shook his head. "Don't know. Last I talked to Jack, she wasn't doin' too well. Hopefully she'll make it through."

"How old is she?"

"Nine, I think."

Junior, sighed and put a hand over her heart. "That's just terrible. I can't imagine what that would be like…her poor parents. Poor Jack!"

Ennis swallowed again, feeling like he had too much saliva in his mouth. "I'm sure Jack'll be fine."

"I hope so. He seems like such a good man." She turned to Ennis, eyes still full of concern for the little girl she'd never met.

"I really like Jack. I just want you to know that. There was somethin' about him…" Junior looked off. "I can't put my finger on it, but there was somethin' just really appealing about him…"

She clucked her tongue and shook her head. "Bless his soul."

Ennis remained silent and tongue tied, not sure what had just happened.

"Have you called him?"

Ennis snapped out of his daze. "Uh, no. Not since he called on Tuesday."

Junior rolled her eyes. "There you go again. He can't hunt you down you know. There's give and take, even with fishin' and drinkin' buddies. You have to put some effort into it."

Ennis frowned. What was she on about? He'd put effort into it. He sent Jack a postcard after all…then again, why hadn't he called him?

"Call him when you get a chance."

"I will." Ennis was still caught up in his thoughts. He extinguished his smoke in the grass and then turned to his daughter.

"You ready to go inside?"

Junior smirked. "You gettin' cold?"

He harrumphed. "Hell no, but looks to me like you've been shiverin' over there for quite some time now. Come on."

He stood with Junior, put his arm around her shoulder. The two walked back into the warm house.

* * *

Ennis said goodbye to Junior and Curt around 10:00. He'd had a good stay. After him and Alma Jr. had come back inside, Curt joined them for a game of cards—Junior chose hearts, and it was fun, just the thing to take his mind of Jack. 

Ennis had to wonder why he hadn't been coming over to their house more often.

_"Good food, good company. What the fuck have I been doin' over at my place all alone? Shit, Ennis, you really are an idiot."_

He just wasn't comfortable reaching out, had always kept to himself, and was used to the idea that if someone wanted to be with him or see him, _they'd_ come a' callin'.

_"Could get used ta this, though."_

He dreaded going back to his lonely house. Whished he could of stayed with Junior, maybe slept on the couch or something, but how pathetic was that?

_"I'm like a kid that's afraid a' the dark and wants to sleep in his parents bed…"_

Certainly, he wasn't _afraid_ of being lonely…but a little company (or even just the knowledge someone else was in the house) couldn't hurt. Nonetheless, Ennis hopped in his truck and drove the couple miles back to his little white house alone.

He pulled his old Chevrolet into the drive and parked it under the carport, climbed out slowly and begrudgingly trekked up his little walkway. When he got to his front door, he hesitated. He _seriously_ didn't want to go inside and spend another night waiting and worrying and feeling sick. For a second, he considered going back to the truck and sleeping there, but he knew that wouldn't solve any of his problems, only guarantee a sore neck in the morning.

Ennis grunted and put the key in the lock, felt the deadbolt unlatch. He opened his door. Nothing, just as he'd expected. The lights were out, the room was cold, and it was dead silent. Great.

He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge, popped off the cap, using his shirt so he wouldn't hurt his hand, and took a long swig. He wiped some foam from his mouth with back of his hand and belched. His kitchen was bare and messy, not with cooking utensils though, just with junk that had started to collect on his table—mail, tools, dirty clothes, beer bottles. He felt like a pig.

"_Not like there's anyone here to complain…"_

He turned his attention to the phone hanging on the wall.

_"Call him when you get a chance." _Junior had said, smiling eyes and dark hair in the moonlight.

Call him. Call him. Call him. Ennis looked at the clock. It was 10:20, would be 11:20 down in Texas.

_"Could be sleepin'. Wouldn't wanna wake him up…"_

Ennis shrugged, promised he would definitely call him tomorrow to prove that he put effort into the relationship, and made his way back to the living room. He laid out on the couch and flipped on the T.V.—reruns of _Full House_ played over and over and over. He fell asleep.

* * *

Early Friday morning, 1:30 am, 2:30 am Central time, Ennis got the phone call from Jack. 


	22. Chapter 20

Jack pulled up to the curb of the nice ranch style home located just a little ways outside of town. It was fairly modern looking, probably a model home when the neighborhood was first built, and it was set far back on a well manicured lawn, bushes trimmed and symmetrical, flower bed bursting with color—anything but intimidating.

He looked at his watch. It was close to seven but was still bright out, dusk an hour or so away. He'd left the hospital twenty minutes before, making sure Eliza was all right and that her parents were there (even Lureen), then excused himself and drove directly to the house owned by the man he was dreading confronting.

_"This is gonna be a fuckin' nightmare. Rather get all my teeth pulled out with no Novocain than walk up that man's driveway and knock on his door."_

Jack had taken a quick lunch break after Marla had returned from the grocery store earlier that day, and had used the time to make a few phone calls rather than eat (he hadn't been hungry anyway). He stood outside, chain smoking and feeling oddly chilled for the intense dryness of the day. He had to walk around the cement pillars to find good reception, ended up sitting on the same bench he'd sat on when he'd called Ennis.

The first person he'd called was Jeremy Kilburn, one of his loosely termed "golfing buddies". Jeremy was an okay guy. Jack had had lunch with him a few times (including the day he'd first picked up _Close Range_) and they'd all been decent experiences. Jeremy worked at the First Bank and Trust on Main Street in downtown Childress, and out of the whole group Lureen practically forced him to socialize with, Jack liked Jeremy the best, which wasn't saying much. Jeremy just didn't annoy him like the others did; he was quiet enough and real enough to not turn Jack off so he could tolerate spending time with him on occasion.

The phone rang (he called his business cell since it was still daytime hours).

"Jeremy Kilburn, First Bank and Trust. How may I help you?" Jeremy voice was high-pitched and he always sounded like he had a cold, like he was breathing through his mouth—which partially explained why he didn't talk much.

"Hey Jeremy, it's Jack. Can I ask you a favor?"

There was a pause; Jack could imagine him looking at his watch—he was always short on time. "Well, sure Jack. What can I do fer ya?"

"You remember Leroy Patterson, guy that golfs with us sometimes?"

"Oh sure, yeah! I know Leroy, friendly young guy. What about him?"

Jack cleared his throat and took in a breath. "Do you happen ta have his address, or know where he lives?"

"Hold on a minute." There was a shuffling noise and then a muffled conversation. Jack waited, smoked his cigarette.

"Sorry 'bout that, Jack. Duty calls." He coughed. "But, uh, I don't have Leroy's address, so it seems like you've been barkin' up the wrong tree."

Jack frowned at the use of the phrase. "Do you know anyone that does?"

Another pause and some more muffled words. "Sorry again, there's a management meetin' that I need to get to. But, uh, try Marty Benson."

"Marty Benson, as in the Marty Benson that works fer me?"

"Is there another?"

Jack furrowed his brows. "I didn't know him n' Leroy were friends."

"They've been buddies fer a while. He'll probably have his address. Why do ya need it anyway?"

Jack swallowed. "Oh, uh, my granddaughter Eliza is friends with his daughter and she didn't get ta send her a birthday card." He gave a fake laugh. "It's my duty ta hunt down his address now."

"There's the phone book…"

"Yeah, I tried that, he's unlisted."

"What about your family? You said you granddaughter's friend with his daughter, right? Don't they know the address?"

Jack was silent. _"Shit, didn't think this through did, ya? You should a' known he'd ask somethin' like that!"_ Marla surely knew the address, and certainly Jack could have asked her, but he really didn't want his family to get any whiff of what he was doing—he just wanted to take care of it on his own and be done with it.

He swallowed. "Marla," He sputtered. "My daughter-in-law, she lost the address. It was on the invitation, but she misplaced it." Jack laughed, the same fake airy chuckly.

Jeremy seemed to chew that over. "Well, I wish you luck in yer hunt, Jack. I've gotta get back ta work. We should get together sometime soon, have lunch."

Jack flicked his smoke off to the side, wrung his hands. "Sure. Sounds good. Thanks fer yer help."

He heard the phone click back on to the receiver and then he hit the "END" button, silencing the buzz of bad reception. Jack took in a shaky breath. That had been close and he hadn't gotten anywhere. He ran a hand over his face, sat up straight and dialed the Newsome Farm Equipment office number.

Ten minutes later, Jack was back in the elevator heading towards the ICU, Leroy's address scribbled on an old receipt in his pocket.

And now, here he was, sitting in his truck, staring up at the house that had no right to look so friendly and inviting.

"_Maybe ya got this all wrong. You're goin' on the word of a nine year old, after all…maybe it's not what you thought."_

Jack shook his head. Eliza was young, but she'd been very upset by something she'd heard, and there's no way she could of made up that word or mistaken something Leroy had said for something else. Jack took in a deep breath, steeled himself, and opened the door. His legs felt weak when his boots touched the ground, and he tightened his hands into fists to try and shake it off.

"_Come on, just get it over with. The longer ya string it out, the worse it's gonna be."_

Jack headed up the driveway. It made him a little sick to his stomach that he was reminded of his first trip to Wyoming and walking up to Ennis' front door, but really the situations were completely different. First off, Jack knew what he was doing this time. He only had one thing to say and he was going to say it and leave as soon as possible. Secondly, he wasn't so much nervous about approaching Leroy as he was angry and a little troubled—the whole situation just didn't bode well with him. He pushed away thoughts of Wyoming and Ennis (didn't want to taint them by association) and stepped onto Leroy's front porch. He stared at the door.

"_Do it. Everything depends on this. Do it."_

Jack pressed the small doorbell, heard the chime echo through the house. He waited.

Everything was riding on this confrontation—everything, and not just because of Leroy and what he could possibly do or say if Jack didn't do this. No, this was important because if Jack was serious about being with Ennis, if he was serious about changing his life style, then he had to learn to step up and deal with all the shit that came with being gay. He had to show he wasn't afraid of what others had to say about him, wasn't intimidated by their actions, and could give a fuck what they thought. He had to—

The door creaked as it opened and Jack tensed. He quickly remembered himself and stood up tall, stuck his chest out. He didn't bother taking off his hat.

An older woman stood at the door, smiling. "May I help you?"

Jack was thrown off, hadn't expected Leroy to answer, but hadn't been expecting this either. He smiled, feeling guilty and not sure why.

"Hello ma'am. Is this the Patterson Residence?"

She smiled. "Yes it is. Are you here ta pick up the clothes?"

Jack looked around. "Uh…no…"

"You're not with the Salvation Army?"

He frowned. _"What the hell has she been drinkin'? Do I look like I'm here from the Salvation Army?"_

He cut right to the chase. "Is Leroy here? I'm a golf buddy a' his. I need ta talk with him."

The woman squinted to get a better look at Jack, then laughed. "I'm sorry. We've been waitin' for the Salvation Army truck ta come for two weeks now, thought they might a' forgotten 'bout us." She shook her head. "I'm 'fraid you've come callin' on the wrong night, though. There's an Elk social."

"On a Thursday?"

"Oh yes. Those Elk's are always havin' somethin' or other, even on weeknights—not like they go on till all hours a' the night, though."

Jack nodded. "Well do ya know when he'll be back?"

She paused. "Well, even though those social's don't go late, don't mean Leroy don't come home late. Afterwards he'll go out with some a' his friends to that bar, you know the one, the Rusty Mug. But Felicia usually comes home right after the social, she don't like stayin' out too late."

Felicia was Leroy's wife; Jack knew that.

"What time do the social's usually end?"

The woman bit her lip, thinking. From inside the house, Jack could hear a dog barking and the television blaring, could smell the strong stench of frying onions.

The woman opened the door a little wider and rested her hand on the doorknob. "It should be over by 9:30 or so. It'll probably be around ten by the time Leroy heads out to the bar. You could meet him there, I'm sure."

Jack nodded. "Thank you fer yer time." He tipped his hat at the woman and turned to walk away, not giving any sort of explanation, not feeling like he needed to. He returned to his truck and slid inside, slamming the door behind him.

So he'd have to confront him in a bar. Jack pulled down the sun visor because the light was now shining at an angle and it hurt his eyes. He turned on the ignition.

"_Can't you wait till tomorrow?"_

But what was to say Leroy wouldn't be out again, especially on a Friday night?

Jack put the truck into drive and pulled away from the curb. He adjusted his hat on his head to help guard against the sun. As much as he didn't like it, he'd made up his mind. He was going to do it tonight, he was going to take care of it as soon as possible, because if he didn't he never would. And hiding from his problems was no way to solve them.

* * *

Jack sat at a corner booth in the small, smoky bar room with a good view of the door. The light in the room was dim enough that he was barely noticeable with his hat pulled low over his eyes.

The Rusty Mug was less than bustling, the only people occupying its barstools and booths the old ghosts that had haunted the place for years (any young people that wanted to drink went outside of town to do it). Jack himself didn't frequent the bar, but he recognized several faces he'd seen around Childress; an old woman that raised horses outside of town sat alone at the bar, gray hair braided down her back; a couple of men that were known as the town drunks sloshed their drinks and talked with each other, occasionally yelling at the bartender. Jack took another sip of his beer and looked down at his wrist.

_"Shit! You forgot yer watch, ya asshole!"_

He'd told himself he had to remember to bring it so he'd have a good sense of time, so he could psyche himself up as it got closer to ten. Just then a waitress walked past and he snapped his head up, hailed her over with a wave of his hand and a loud, "Ma'am!"

The waitress, slightly older, probably in her mid forties, sauntered up to him, big hips swaying in her tight blue jeans. She set her wet tray down on the table and raised one of her unnaturally thin eyebrows.

"What'cha want?" She flipped her long curly red hair over her shoulder.

"You got the time?" Jack tipped his hat back on his head to see her more clearly.

"Got the time ta what, have a drink with you? Because I'll have ta check my planner, got a lot a' fellas askin' me…"

Jack smiled. He liked her, she had sass, and that had always been a turn on for him. "Just want the time. I forgot my watch."

She smirked, raised her wrist to check her own watch. "It's 'bout ten till ten."

Jack nodded. The waitress stood there a little longer. "So what d'ya say 'bout that drink, cowboy?"

He laughed. It had been a long time since anyone had called him that. He shook his head. "Maybe some other time."

She picked up her tray. "Well all right. But you just remember my name if ya ever want ta take me up on the offer."

Jack had to play along—he'd always loved flirting with saucy gals and he needed some light distraction to settle the butterflies in his stomach.

"And what is yer name? Surely somethin' lovely ta fit such a lovely woman."

She smiled, a secretive smile that made it seem like she'd just heard something wildly funny or inappropriate. She ran her tongue over her teeth.

"Tina, but my friends call me Teeny."

"Music to my ears." He made sure to smile big as he said, "Jack Twist."

She gave him a nod—a silent howdy—and a wink, then walked off, nothing more to say, but made sure to wag her hips so as to show off her big ass. Jack smiled and chuckled to himself. It didn't get old, at least not when it was just for fun. If she'd been a little more serious (like Grace-Anne had gotten) then he probably wouldn't have played along. He still shook his head and gave a little whistle under his lips as she walked away though, thighs brushing and jeans hugging. He shrugged. So he was queer now (whatever that meant), didn't mean he couldn't appreciate a good-looking woman.

Jack settled back into the shadow of the booth, chuckling to himself, and re-positioned his hat low over his eyes. But just as he was feeling normal again, almost comfortable, the door to the bar swung open and in walked three men, the tall one in the middle all smiles and good nature, Polo Shirt and Khaki's impeccably chosen (most likely by his wife): Leroy Patterson.

Jack felt his throat tighten and he sat up in the booth. There he was, and he was with two other friends.

_"Well what did ya expect? The old woman even told ya he went out with a couple buddies. You act like this is shockin' news."_

But now there were two more he had to deal with. He didn't know what to do. He'd been set with his plan when he'd thought Leroy would be home, but now they were in a completely different situation and he was clueless. He watched them sit (they chose a table in the middle of the room), and then watched as Teeny took their order. He remained in the dark corner, frozen, as she brought out two pitchers of beer and even as they laughed and joked and drained their first pitcher.

_"Get up. Get up. Get up. Do it, Jack."_

It was almost 11:30 before he stood up, legs shaking, palms sweating, breaths coming in short, sharp intakes. He shuffled towards their table, hands hanging heavy beside him, boots like they were filled with lead. He stopped short of the table, cleared his throat.

The men looked up. Leroy's eye lit with recognition. "Jack? Jack Twist?"

Jack felt like a large roll of quarters was lodged in his throat. He took in a deep breath and wiped his palms on his jeans. "Leroy." His voice came out tight and unfriendly. "Need ta have a word with you."

Leroy frowned. "'Bout what?"

He cleared his throat. "Can we talk in private fer a minute?"

Leroy looked around the table at his two other friends, both clean cut, one fat with a mustache, the other short and thin with a button up shirt and tie. He took a swallow of beer, wiped the excess liquid off his mouth with the back of his hand. He laughed suspiciously.

"Well pardon me fer askin', but, uh, what d'ya need ta talk to me about?"

"I just need ta have a word with you. Won't take long, you can get back ta yer buddies in a second."

Leroy leaned back in his seat. "I think whatever you have to say ta me, you can say in front a' these guys." He crossed his arms to show his word was final.

Jack tightened his fists and straightened, revving himself up for what he had to say.

"Okay, Leroy. I guess that's fair enough." He paused, processing his words. "My granddaughter told me she overheard a conversation you had with yer wife a few weeks back. Don't know if you remember…"

"I have a lot of conversations with my wife, and Eliza's at our house a lot. So I'm not so sure I know what you're talkin' 'bout."

Jack gritted his teeth. "I think you do. I'm not gonna spell it out, but I think you know exactly what I'm talkin' about.'

Leroy pursed his lips. Jack continued. "I just wanted ta let you know that you have no right assumin' things and nosin' around where you got no business, understand? I don't wanna hear 'bout you flappin' yer mouth around town, things that you don't know are true."

"Are they true?" Leroy held Jack's gaze, didn't back down like Jack was hoping he would. He felt a ball of anger form in his stomach, and he put both his hands on the table, bent down to get a closer look at Leroy, to let him know he was serious.

"Look. I don't want no trouble, but I also want ta let you know that you crossed the line. If you want ta say somethin', say it to my face, don't go parrotin' 'round behind my back like a spineless coward that don't have the will ta stand up for himself."

"You fuckin' sonofabitch. You got no right ta talk to me like this."

"I got every right." He pointed at Leroy's chest, paused momentarily. "So you just think before you open yer ugly mouth again."

He stood up straight, feeling like a huge weight had been lifter off his chest.

"That's all." He tipped his hat at the men. They sat, dumbfounded, too chicken shit or too angry to say anything. Jack turned and walked out the bar.

* * *

It was midnight. Jack had left the bar feeling restless, and ended up driving around Childress with the windows down, the cool air refreshing on his face, the street lights against the dark sky soothing for his troubled mind. He circled the town, going up and down Main Street, driving Ave. F too many times to count.

He smoked cigarette after cigarette, until he ran out, finishing his third pack for that day.

_"Jesus Christ, boy. You're gonna get lung cancer jest from the past week, probably smoked more in four days than ya have yer whole life."_

Jack finally got tired of the empty streets—like some run down, abandoned Hollywood set—and headed back home, but he took the long route, going out of town and driving one of the old country roads that he liked to take walks down from time to time.

At night, these lone rural roads were almost mystical, like some old black and white movie (for some reason they always reminded him of the movie_ To Kill a Mockingbird, _quiet and full of childhood wonder). He couldn't explain why, but it calmed him, these roads at night, made his stomach settle and in general made him smile. Maybe it was because it reminded him of when _he_ was young, living in Lightening Flat before he'd had to worry about anything accept how best to avoid beatings from his daddy. He used to sneak out at night, creep down the stairs or climb out his window and just walk up and down the dirt road that led up to their house, letting the wind and the stars keep him company. Jack smirked. Those days held some kind of sentiment for him, unhappy though they were, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. But nonetheless, Jack still got a comforting feeling when on the road, so he tried to go out and walk, or at least drive down it, whenever he got the chance.

Suddenly, his truck lurched and the engine popped. It shook and rattled. Jack took his foot off the accelerator, put the truck into neutral to see if that helped, but still had a hard time controlling the hulking vehicle, the engine wheezing and moaning like it had suddenly had a fatal heart attack.

He slowed down, eased his foot onto the brake and pulled over to the side of the road, then turned it off, took out the key and let it rest momentarily. When he thought it was okay to try again, he turned the ignition, but as he'd feared—nothing. The truck was dead to the world.

_"Shit! Thought I got this fixed! What the fuck is goin' on?"_

There was no excuse as to why he was having more trouble with the engine. He'd had the cooling fan replaced for God's sake! Jack blew out a long breath of air and rubbed his forehead. He looked around the interior of the truck for a flashlight, the dark from the surrounding area closing in on him. He thought he carried one in the glove box, but apparently he'd taken it out because it was nowhere to be seen.

Jack reached into his back pocket to get his cell phone and call Lureen or Bobby to come pick him up. But it wasn't there. He searched his other three pockets—nothing.

_"Fuck! Did you really forget your cell phone?"_

Jack had a sudden mental flash to the kitchen table. He'd been sitting eating a bowl of cereal before he left to go to the bar, and he'd set the phone in front of him so he wouldn't have to fish it out of his pants if it rang. It was still sitting there, he was sure of it.

"Shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck, hell, and some more shit!" He hit the steering wheel with his fist then leaned back in his seat, defeated. He was all alone, and it made him slightly nervous. Jack tensed and tried to ignore the pitch black sky, the empty fields of grass blowing slightly in the breeze, his lone country road that led nowhere but to more suffocating darkness—it wasn't soothing now, it had suddenly twisted in his mind, appeared cold and cruel. Three men with tire irons and eyes red with hate entered his mind (blood splattered from his cracked skull), and panic hit Jack over the head with a vengeance. He swallowed, told himself to remain calm, then opened the door of the truck and stepped out.

"Okay Jack. You're gonna be fine. You're gonna walk home and then you're gonna shit yer pants, but not till then, got it?"

He nodded, agreeing with himself—he figured that was the best plan of action.

"Less someone else comes up with somethin' better." But the crickets weren't sharing their secrets, so he crossed his arms over his chest to guard himself from the cool air and started walking west towards his house.

It was then that he saw the bright headlights of an oncoming car peek through the grass several yards in the distance. Someone was coming around a curve in the road at breakneck speed and Jack immediately felt the panic rise up in his throat that he'd been struggling to contain. He kept walking, still not very far from his truck. The car turned the corner and it was close enough now for the brights to nearly illuminate him. Jack froze. He suddenly had the impulse to run and hide in the grass, avoid whoever was speeding down the road at midnight on a Thursday, but then the lights were on him and he was trapped, like a convict in a spotlight caught trying to escape prison.

The car slowed. Jack slowed his pace as well, hoping, praying, that the driver was just being cautious not to hit him, and that it wasn't actually stopping. He continued walking, slowly step by step, boots crunching gravel, the hair on the back of his neck and arms standing on end. And then, just as Jack had feared, the car slowed completely and pulled over right in front of him. He was trapped unless he turned the other way and ran.

The bright white light made Jack squint and he brought a hand up to shield his eyes. He waited anxiously for something to happen and then the door opened, a boot stepped on the ground and a hand reached out and grabbed the top of the door. With the light glaring, Jack couldn't tell what kind of car it was, but it was sleek and was probably an expensive model.

"Hello?" He called out. "I had some car trouble, uh, was jest walkin' back ta my house."

A man stood up, figure dark. "That so?"

He knew the voice; he'd heard it not to long before. Jack felt bile start to form in the back of his throat and he forced it back down. The man took a few steps away from the car and stepped in front of the headlight, showing himself, much to Jack's dismay.

"Anythin' I can do ta help?" Leroy's voice was cool, his Polo shirt and khaki pants still fresh and clean looking.

Jack swallowed. So it had come to this. He'd decided to take things into his own hands, try and tell the man off, and now he'd gone and simply pissed him off, sealed his own fate while he was trying to avoid it.

_"It's inevitable. The book had it in for you and ya can't escape it, no matter what you do or how hard ya try. You can't escape it"_

But none of this would have happened if it hadn't been for the book right? So he'd really sealed his fate when he'd picked it up and read it, had sent certain things spiraling into motion and out of his hands. He swallowed.

"You really come out here ta help?"

"Guess not." Leroy took a step closer.

_"There's only one a' him, though. You can take him down, you still got it in ya. If he had his friends with him you might have ta worry, but this asshole can't be too tough, right?"_

Leroy looked down at his boots, scratched his head.

"Surprisingly chilly out tonight."

"Don't chit chat with me. Say what you really came out here ta say."

"I didn't come out here lookin' for you. This is the way I usually take ta get home. Anyway, I just saw ya walkin' out here, figured luck was on my side."

"Well here I am. Cut to the chase."

Leroy was silent, obviously surprised by Jack's hostility. "You embarrassed me in front a' my friends."

"You embarrassed me in front a' my granddaughter. Had an awful time explainin' what a _faggot_ was ta her." He spit the word faggot out, tasted sick in his mouth.

Leroy sucked in a deep breath. "So we are on the same page, then."

"Not many other pages. Keep up with me now."

Leroy took a step closer to Jack, drew his body up. Jack prepared himself to spring, to fight back with all his might, to try and save his own life. He had too much riding now, too many things at stake, he couldn't die now, he couldn't. He held back the emotion that was threatening to show itself and clenched his fists. Leroy came close enough so Jack could see his hazel eyes, angry, but not dull, not drunk.

"I should kick yer ass."

Jack was silent. He didn't want to encourage him.

"You got some nerve, Twist. Some nerve…" He shook his head and then suddenly his body language changed, he let his shoulders relax and he looked from side to side. His chest rose and fell with a large sigh.

"You got a smoke?"

Jack was surprised by his change in attitude, wasn't ready to let down his guard.

"Not for you."

Leroy chuckled. "Didn't figure." He kicked at the gravel with his toe. "You must hate me right now, and I don't blame you."

Jack felt a chill run down his spine. His fists relaxed slightly. "What?"

Leroy looked up, anger gone from his eyes, some other emotion now replacing it.

"I'm sorry, Jack."

Jack nearly fell over. Had he heard him right? His tongue got tied up and he could utter was a useless mumble.

The man standing before him, head lights at his back making him dark enough to blend into the sky, shrugged.

"You heard me. I owe you an apology."

Jack laughed uncomfortably. "Hold on, there…I don't understand."

"You don't have to. I don't know what you were expectin', me pullin' over in the middle a' the night. Hell, I guess I would a' thought the worse if I were in your shoes…" He spit on the ground. "But I don't wanna fight ya, or beat ya, or whatever. I was mad when you approached me in the bar, mad as hell, mostly embarrassed since my pals were there, and I was pissed when I saw you walkin' down the road, felt like I jest couldn't get away from ya. But…I'm really not a bad guy."

Jack couldn't believe what he was hearing. He felt like he was in a fog, everything around him moving in slow motion.

"Yeah. I'm just…" He looked down for a moment, then met Jack's gaze. "Look, I'm sorry 'bout what I said. I didn't mean no harm from it. I just…" He chuckled. "I read this weird book with a character named Jack Twist, and I thought it was funny. I got a little carried away talkin' with my wife one night, I'll admit."

He coughed into his hand. "What I'm tryin' ta say is, I wouldn't go blabbin' to anyone else spreadin' rumors…I don't know you, and it was just a stupid book, honestly I'm not that much of an asshole." He shook his head. "Hell, I don't even mind gay guys. Got no real beef with 'em like some fellas do. My cousin's gay, lives out in Dallas."

Jack was silent. He couldn't' move. Leroy looked back up at him.

"So that's all. Just wanted to clear all that up with you, so we don't have no problems, okay?"

Jack nodded. He felt like he'd been hit by a train, couldn't quite comprehend what had just happened. Leroy clapped his hands together.

"So d'ya want me ta give you a ride as an act of good will? So we can finish all this?"

Jack looked at the man suspiciously. He didn't know if he trusted him _that _much.

"How 'bout we just shake on it? I'm not too far from my house…the fresh air'l be good fer me."

Leroy nodded. "Sure enough." He reached his hand out and Jack grasped it, gave it a firm shake—a tricky feat since he was just about shaking all over.

Then Leroy retreated to his car. "I guess I'll see you 'round then, Jack."

Jack blinked. "Hopefully later rather than sooner." He hadn't been able to control himself, and the words had slipped out.

The man behind the open passenger door just chuckled. "Yeah, I'll give you that one." And without another word he climbed all the way into his car and pulled back onto the road, driving away and leaving Jack shivering in the still, early morning air.

* * *

Jack watched as the dark car drove past his truck, then down a little hill, then around another turn in the road until the sky was as dark and the grass as still as if Leroy had never been there. He couldn't move, his feet had grown roots and he was planted helplessly on the side of the road, twisted and strange.

He stood there for almost fifteen minutes, silent, the only sound his soft breathing and the grass rustling in the breeze, an occasional cricket or cicada crying out. He finally broke his paralysis and looked up at the sky, enjoyed the rush of cool air that went up his nose and through his eyelashes. The sky was dark, the moon little more than a sliver, slowly working its way to a half pie, the stars bright but distant, making Jack feel smaller and more alone than he had in a long, long time. Finally he started walking.

He counted his steps as they pounded on the ground, _one, two, three, four_, tried to time his breaths with them, but eventually found it too difficult and had to slow his breathing, got it to where he sucked in a breath and then let it out for every four footsteps. The pattern made him feel a little better, not as lost. He shook his head.

Jack didn't know what to think now. He couldn't think, he was beyond thinking. Leroy hadn't tried to fight him, hadn't wanted to kill him or do anything to him except apologize—the big bad grizzly had turned into a teddy bear. It didn't seem possible. Jack had been sure that the hammer had just hit the other foot, that it was all about to go down, that he may never see his family again. In those few terrifying moments everything had gone haywire, his brain and his heart. And now he was mixed up and he didn't know how to get back on the road he knew and loved.

And now there was one blaring truth he realized: whatever hold Annie Proulx's _Brokeback Mountain_ had had on him wasn't as strong as he'd originally thought. His life had been spiraling out of control, it had seemed, like it was out of his hands and left up to some supreme sort of fate. And he'd eaten it up, every bit of it, getting a thrill out the idea, out the concept of predetermined destiny, like some religious fanatic. And that's what the book had become for him, full of mysteries and glory, a nearly religious object to behold. He'd been obsessed with it, with the characters and their lives and their love, and suddenly…he felt like the wool had been pulled from his eyes, like a child that discovers Santa is just their dad trying to make ends meet.

_Brokeback Mountain _was a story, period. That was a fact. It was fiction and no matter how much Jack wanted to believe it wasn't, it was. There had been similarities to his life, but how many were because he sought those similarities out? How many coincidences had actually been his doing?

He wasn't dead. And he was happy? As sick as it sounded, Jack honestly wasn't sure.

_"That would a' been the final act, the final chapter to this story, the last step ta bringin' our worlds together."_

But all it came down to was this: fiction was fiction and reality was reality. They didn't mix. Jack had a sudden glimpse of Eliza laying in the hospital bed, alone and miserable, lost amongst the white sheets, her pale face a mask of illness. Jack swallowed. That had never happened in the book, no one had gotten sick. No, that was a shot of real life, something that Jack had been neglecting while chasing his fairy tales, something he had been so close to giving up while he was off in the mountains, his version of happily ever after.

He kept walking. Thirty minutes later, he reached his driveway. He stopped at the foot, stared up at the dark outline of the sprawling ranch style house, a couple acres of land stretching around it on either side. He wanted to feel some sort of comfort at the sight, but all he felt was numbness. He walked up to the open garage, unclosed since he'd left earlier that evening (Lureen's car nowhere in sight). Jack strode across the smooth cement floor, boot heels echoing, bouncing from wall to wall, ground to ceiling. He climbed the steps to the house and walked in.

The laundry room was dark, the kitchen just as black, all silent. No surprise. Jack ignored the darkness and made a beeline for the kitchen table. There on the bleached and polished maple wood laid his cell phone. He picked it up, and sat down in the chair closest to the patio doors, the faint moonlight pouring in through the blinds, washing him with horizontal bars of light.

He dialed Ennis' number. It was 1:30.

"Hello?" Ennis' voice was sleepy but gruff, on edge—no one likes phone calls in the middle of the night. Jack swallowed, ignored the sweet feeling he got at the sound of that man's voice.

"Ennis." The only word he could speak. There was a shuffle as the phone was rearranged.

"Jack? That you? Shit, what time is it? Are you all right? Why you callin' in the middle a' the night?" His voice no longer clouded with sleep, his mumble dissolved, replaced with a clear panic.

Jack rested his chin on the back of the kitchen chair. "I'm fine. Calm down."

There was a pause and a sound like Ennis' hand covering the mouthpiece, and then he was back. "Shit, Jack. You really gave me a scare there." He let out a shaky breath. "What's wrong? This can't just be a howdy do."

"No." For once he was feeling less than chatty. His stomach tossed and churned. He cleared his throat. "I had a talk with Leroy tonight."

Silence. "Leroy. That guy you were tellin' me 'bout? The one who might know 'bout the story?"

Jack nodded as though Ennis could see him. "He knows about the story."

"Shit." Ennis hissed. "What happened? Did he hurt you?" The volume of his voice increased.

"No. He…" Jack still could hardly believe it. "He don't have nothin' against me personally. He just apologized." He purposely decided to leave out the part about his truck going out again, about the terror that had taken hold of him when the lone, dark car pulled over and Leroy stepped out.

"He apologized." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah that was all. He don't have a problem with me, knows about the book, but not much else, think he just found it coincidental."

"And can you actually trust him? Or was he just playin' with you?"

"I think if he was playin' with me he would have taken care a' things while he had the chance."

Ennis was silent. "Jack, where are you? Are you at yer house?"

"I am now." He didn't want to talk about Leroy anymore. He took in a deep breath. "This ain't why I called."

Ennis seemed to think that statement over. "Why _did_ you call?" His voice was quiet.

"I…" Jack struggled to find his words. "I don't know when I'll be comin' back ta Wyoming…"

"Okay…" He sounded doubtful. "I thought that was understood. That's fine, jest do what you have ta do."

Jack closed his eyes against the white moonlight. "No. I mean, I don't think I _will_ be comin' back."

He waited for some response, got nothing. He continued. "A lot has happened since we last talked. Eliza's comin' outta the dark, she has a good chance a' recoverin' now."

"Good ta hear."

"Yeah. I also had a talk with Bobby, cleared some things up."

"Jack…"

He cut Ennis off. "What I'm sayin' is, I've got a lot a' things to think about. I have ta get things in order. My family…" He shook his head, repositioned himself in the chair so he could hold the phone closer to his mouth.

"Ennis, I've been a half assed family man my whole life. And, I'm just startin' ta see that I ain't been the only one that was unhappy…" Silence. "I just have ta figure some things out."

"I'm not followin' you…" Ennis voice was rough.

Jack felt tears in his eyes, didn't know when they'd appeared, but blinked them back and tried to swallow the sharp pain in his throat. "I'm sayin' maybe I was wrong. Maybe this whole story thing is just that…a story."

A long pause. "You mean that?"

"I don't know what I mean. I have ta sort some stuff out s'all."

"So you won't be comin' back then, huh? You just givin' up on that ranch dream a' yers."

"You were the one that was hesitant, that didn't know what you wanted. Well I'm answerin' that question for ya. You don't want me. You don't want this, this…queer thing. Just go on with yer life, okay? It was fun while it lasted, but we were both stupid to think it could go anywhere."

"You don't mean that."

"I do mean that!" His voice rose, felt like he had to shout to get his point across. "I mean that. And I'm sorry because this was all my fault. I'm the one that read that book and just couldn't keep it to myself. I hunted you down, I started all this, and it was a mistake."

"Don't tell me you think it was a mistake. Don't you say that!" Ennis' voice got real low, barely above a whisper. "You're the only friend I've ever had, Jack."

His words cut straight through Jack's chest. He wiped the wetness away from his eyes.

"I'm sorry. But we can't follow the lives a' two fictional characters, we gotta face the real world."

"What's real Jack? What about Brokeback? How we could a' been workin' up there together back in '63!"

"That didn't happen though, and maybe it was a good thing."

"Jack—"

"I gotta go, Ennis." He pulled the phone away from his ear. One last desperate "Jack" wafted out of the speaker, and then he hit the "END" button, cutting off the voice, and cutting off his tie to Ennis Del Mar.


	23. Chapter 21

"_I was afraid a' this. I was afraid a' what it means and what…shit, I don't know what I'm tryin' ta say!" Ennis' voice had gotten loud. Jack remained frozen in place, the sun beating down on him, creating little drops of perspiration that rolled down his back. He was silent as Ennis continued._

_"I don't know anythin'! I jest know I'm afraid…for you! Of losin' you. I'm afraid because I think…damnit, Jack…I think I love you."_

_Jack felt his stomach drop out of his body and the blood rush to his face. He suddenly felt hot all over (something he couldn't blame on the sun), a burning, tingling sort of heat that made his whole body flush. _

"_I didn't want ta tell ya," Ennis voice sounded tight. "I thought I could jest keep it ta myself fer as long as it took, thought that keepin' that part silent might be able ta slow things down, keep anythin' bad from happenin', but…well, turns out that wasn't workin'." He took a deep breath._

_"I read the book too, Jack. I read it prob'bly a hundred times, or more. I lost count. So what kinda person would I be ta follow in the foot steps a' that fictional character, knowing what I know happens in the end, and knowing what could a' been?"_

_Jack heard Ennis laugh slightly and then time moved forward and Ennis was standing behind him, arms wrapped around his chest, breath warm on his neck and ear. _

_"This is real. This ain't no story. What d'ya say we take a chance writin' our own version, huh?" _

* * *

Jack sat on the edge of the guest room bed staring at the cream colored carpet and fiddling with his thumbs; they danced together, intertwining and stroking, until they didn't feel like his own hands, till the touch of one tickled the skin of the other. He sat there annoyed by the rising sun—the light streaming through the blinds of the window at his back, the sheer lace curtains useless to block the heat—but not enough to move. 

He sat in his hot, sweaty shirt and jeans from the night before, still dusty from walking miles on a dirt road, but not disheveled, since Jack hadn't actually laid down, simply sat on the edge of the bed when he'd come in the room. He hadn't even taken off his boots.

His ass was numb from sitting completely still for seven hours and his head and throat hurt, tight and painful from refusing to cry. He wasn't going to cry, he was stronger than that.

_"Really?"_

Yes. He had to be, and that was that. He went back to thinking about nothing, to staring at the light green decorative pillows ("Sea foam" was the color Lureen had called it) that were tossed on the floor and out of the way. Jack had been sleeping in the "green" guest room since he'd arrived on Tuesday morning and he had yet to discuss it with Lureen (or _she_ had yet to mention it). He hadn't seen her apart from his visits at the hospital (she was busy with business as usual), hadn't really spoken with her since their last talk. They'd been cordial to each other, certainly, and they'd acknowledged each other's presence, but since Lureen had told him how she felt about their relationship,

_"…the 'poor wokin' woman' tryin' ta keep her family together and tryin' ta get her husband ta show interest in somethin', tryin' not ta be the bitch, but always endin' up that way because I get so damned frustrated with the way yer never around, and the way you've never cared about our lives or tryin' ta make them better."_

It had opened a can of worms that neither one had felt like dealing with, but couldn't quite ignore. Jack knew there were lots of things to work out and he didn't know if he _could_, but he was going to give it his best shot. He was here to be the family man now, to be there when he'd never been before, to show that he could do something right for _someone_.

_"And sacrifice your happiness?"_

Jack clenched his fists and felt his throat tighten a little more. Sacrifice his happiness… Maybe he just hadn't given his family enough of a chance to _make_ him happy. Maybe he'd been so caught up in unhappiness that he'd never allowed them to be the source of his joy. Eliza certainly was, so what had gone wrong with his wife and son? He shook his head. He owed this to them, it wasn't just about him. For the first time in Jack's life, he realized how selfish he'd always been, and he didn't want to be that way anymore. He wasn't alone; he had other people that relied on him to a certain extent, and he couldn't let them down.

_"But Ennis…"_

Jack swallowed, held back the tears for the hundredth time that morning and took a deep breath. Ennis. He was something else, all right. Jack closed his eyes and let his mind return to nights on Brokeback; under the stars, soft grass beneath his naked skin, warm hands running up and down his chest, hot breath on his neck, wet kissed on his inner thigh, his abdomen, his dick, soft, barely audible whispers of love, louder moans of passion.

A part of him cried out, "No! No! You made a mistake! How can ya give up the only thing that's made you totally complete? Are you crazy?" That part of him wanted to kick his own ass, to yell and scream and punch the walls and call Ennis back and tell him he was sorry, he wasn't thinking straight, he didn't mean those things, he loves him, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry… That part said that Jack Twist would never give up on Ennis, never quit him for such a sorry ass reason.

But who was that Jack Twist? Was that the _real_ Jack Twist, or was that Annie Proulx's Brokeback Jack? It was hard to tell the difference sometimes, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that they weren't the same person, at least not anymore. Maybe there had been a time, a time long before thirty-four years of marriage and working in a dead end job, before the years had turned his temples gray and made him a little tired, before he woke up every morning with a stiff back and sore knees from all the years in the rodeo. Maybe once before all that he'd been the same Jack, full of hope and ambition, and energy, a mind like a whip with a tongue to match. But those days were past, and now, he was different; he could feel guilt and the weight of long ignored responsibility…

_"But can you really walk away from love?"_

Jack stood, legs feeling dull and misused, ass tingling, and walked over to the mirror that hung above a small chest of wooden drawers. He looked at his reflection, his blue eyes piercing and alert, but the skin below dark and nearly bruised. His jaw and cheeks thick with salt and pepper stubble.

"Do you love Ennis Del Mar?" His voice was rough and strangled, barely more than a growl.

He frowned, looked into the mirror, waiting for the answer as though his reflection would simply smile and lay it out like it was all so simple.

Did he love him or did he love the idea of him, the excitement, the forbidden fruit? It was a tough question, and one that he would of laughed at only a few days before. That Jack Twist (the same one that yelled and screamed and bit and kicked) would say, "Course you love Ennis. You fell in love with him that first time he sat down next to ya and shone his big brown eyes down on ya." And for the most part that was true. But…was it really?

Had Jack only felt that soft feeling inside because of the book, was that the only thing that had planted the desire and need to be loved by a man in his head? Ennis himself had only shown sexual interest after reading the story, so what did that say?

That one part of Jack howled in agony, not wanting to believe any of this, wanting to get him to stop his over analyzing, stop thinking so much and just follow his desires. But Ennis aside, it came back to his family. And his family he couldn't betray any longer, Ennis or no.

_"There has to be a way ta have 'em both, there has ta be."_

Jack stepped back from the mirror, his head throbbing even harder, and looked down at the neat bed, it's green floral comforter untouched except for one small indentation where Jack had sat through the night. He smoothed the bedspread, pulled it straight and then admired his handy work. It was almost as though he'd never been there. He left the room to take a shower.

* * *

As Jack finished getting dressed he heard noises coming from the kitchen, some clanging of pots and water running. He quickly finished buttoning his shirt and fastened his belt, then walked out of the master bedroom, and wasn't very surprised to see Lureen was home and attacking the huge pile of dishes. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and she wore a pair of jeans that were too big for her and her lacey purple bra. 

He took a few steps into the kitchen, the water still loud enough to mask his footfalls, and glanced at the wall clock: 8:48. Had she just gotten home? Suddenly she turned off the faucet, and turned around.

"Oh my God!" She jumped and instinctively covered her chest, but then saw who it was and let her guard down slightly, kept her right hand over her heart. "Jack, you scared the shit out a' me. I didn't think you were home, didn't see yer truck."

Jack stood still, hands in his pockets. "My truck broke down by the side a' the road last night. Had ta walk home."

Lureen finally seemed to ease completely and turned back to put the last few dishes in the dishwasher. "D'ya need ta call and get that fixed? Get a tow truck out there?"

Jack walked closer to his wife. "I can do that later." He rested his hand on her shoulder, the feel of her skin soft and smooth under his rougher fingers. Lureen stopped what she was doing and tensed.

"Jack?" Her voice was soft and hesitant, unsure of what was going on. Jack rubbed her shoulder.

"Lureen, we need ta talk, actually talk, and not fight."

She put her head down and her platinum blonde ponytail bobbed slightly. Slowly she turned and Jack put his hand in his pocket.

"All right. Let's talk."

Jack nodded and looked down at his bare feet, trying to gain strength, and noticed Lureen was also barefoot and had her toes painted bright red. He looked back up, knew what he had to say should be said directly _to_ her so she'd know he was sincere.

" I know we've had some hard times lately."

"Lately?"

"Well in the past few years." Lureen crossed her arms over her chest, but her face remained open, she didn't frown, just listened.

"Anyway, I know it's been hard. And I know I haven't been there fer ya and fer Bobby, and maybe I never was, but that didn't mean I didn't _want_ to be. I always wanted to be, just didn't know how, or didn't feel like _I _was wanted."

Lureen's face remained calm, but Jack could see in her eyes that what he was saying had some affect, because they started to glisten and it seemed like there was some wetness gathering at the corners of her mascara'd eyelashes. He took in a deep breath.

"What I'm tryin' ta say is, I'm willin' to make this work. I'm willin' to try and start over and ta do my best, even though it's awful late in the game. But now I'm gonna try."

He waited. She didn't move. Her breathing came in slow even ins and outs, her breasts pressed up from her crossed arms, the curve of them still soft and ample. He had a hard time reading her face.

"Well?" He asked, a little put off that she hadn't responded yet.

Lureen looked down and shook her head. He heard her sniffle a little and then she met his gaze, any tears under control once again.

"Jack, a year or two ago I probably would've said yes, hell maybe even a few months ago."

"Okay…" He frowned, unsure of where she was going with this.

She waited, looked him in the eye and pressed her lips together. He stood still, silent.

She let out a sigh. "But not now."

Jack felt something inside slip away, couldn't tell if it was a good or bad feeling. "Oh."

She looked away, towards the oak cabinets, swallowed hard. "I've been meanin'

ta tell you this fer a while now. I've had my mind made up fer a couple weeks, but I jest didn't know how ta say what I needed to say."

She turned her gaze back to Jack. "I want a divorce."

Jack sucked in a breath. This he hadn't really expected. It's not as though they'd been happy the last hell, twenty years or so, but the mention of divorce had never been spoken. Their marriage had just been something to live with, whether they both thought about separating or not. He suddenly felt very small, very strange, since things were not working the way he thought they would.

He played with the brass studs on his jeans pockets and licked his lips. "So why now? What's so different that you wanna get a divorce now instead a' ten years ago?"

Lureen's face suddenly turned hard and he could tell the question made her uncomfortable by the way she wouldn't meet his eyes, kept looking at things around the kitchen. "Jack, there's so many reasons. I'd be listin' all day long."

Jack felt annoyance start to set in. "All right, well list then. I wanna hear the reasons before I just go agreein' and signin' papers." He crossed his arms, mimicking her pose on a larger scale.

She pursed her lips. "I told you the other day what our problem is."

Jack nodded. "Okay, well what else then, you said you had a whole list." He couldn't keep the snide, challenging tone out of his voice.

"Jack, don't be an asshole."

He threw his hands up in the air. "Well I'm sorry, Lureen. But here I come, after much struggle on my part, to offer ta try and fix our marriage and then I get told that you want a divorce and that I've fucked up so much you could write a novel! Excuse me fer bein' the slightest bit pissy."

"So it took _so_ much struggle fer you to want ta try and make things work, huh?"

Jack clamped his mouth shut, trying to watch what he said. "Don't play that game with me, Lureen. I wanna know what's goin' on."

Lureen got silent and her eyes went soft again, the anger draining away. Her mouth quivered the slightest bit and she looked up at Jack. "It's not jest you."

"What?" His voice was still loud and accusatory, still in defense mode.

"You're not the only one ta blame. I didn't mean I could list yer fuck ups. I meant…"

"What did you mean?" He was interested now.

"There are so many different reasons."

He nodded. "Okay, but we've always had our problems, we've been unhappy fer a long time, so why now? That's all I wanna know."

Lureen was quiet for a long time, Jack thought she wouldn't answer, but then she walked around him to the breakfast table and sat down. Jack followed her with his eyes, made no move to sit with her.

"I've met someone."

Jack's did a mental double take. Had he heard her right?

"You met someone? Someone you're interested in?"

Lureen folded her hands on the table and stared down at them. "His name's Michael."

Jack suddenly felt like the breath had been knocked out of his chest and he and sat down across from her, not because he really wanted to, but because he would've fallen over if he hadn't.

"How long you been seein' him?"

Lureen looked up. "About three months."

Jack's eyes widened. "Three months?" Jack thought for a moment. Three months ago it was May, which meant he hadn't read _Brokeback Mountain_, didn't know who Ennis was, hadn't started his own affair. He rested his face in his hand and shook his head, a sick taste developing in his mouth.

"How'd you meet him?"

"He's the vice president of the McGuire Tractor Company. I met him at the first meetin' we had to try and buy out the company." Her answers were perfunctory, all business.

"Wasn't Bobby there?"

"No, he couldn't make it that time, was sick with the flu, remember?"

Jack did remember, he remembered clearly because Marla had dropped Eliza off with him because she didn't want her to catch what Bobby had. That was why _Jack_ hadn't gone to the meeting either.

"So that's when you started fuckin' this guy, huh?" For some reason he felt anger build up within him, even though he knew he had no right. It was something to do with the fact that he'd been getting the one up even before he'd ever heard of Ennis Del Mar.

Lureen's eyes started glistening again, and she shook her head, her ponytail whipping around her. "No. I met him, yes, and I liked him, and I know he liked me too. We had a drink and he wanted me ta come back to his place, but I said no, even though I desperately wanted to." She sniffed and one tear slid down her cheek, she made no move to wipe it away though.

"I spent the next couple months spendin' time with him and goin' to dinner with him when he was in town, but never anything else. Not until you left me at the Barbeque, not until I knew what we'd had, or what I'd thought we'd had all those years was worth nothin', that was when I went with him back to his hotel room."

She wiped under her eyes with one manicured hand and straightened herself, cleared her throat—tough, business-minded Lureen. "And the thing is, I'm not really sorry." She laughed. Jack was silent.

She rolled her head back and looked up at the ceiling. "And I know that sounds harsh, but honestly I don't mean it in a bitchy way. It's just…"

She turned her gaze to Jack, a genuine smile on her face. "I'm happy with Michael. He's been my rock through this whole ordeal with Eliza. He came to stay at the Best Western fer a while to help me out. I've been stayin' over there with him and comin' back here when I need to." She paused, carefully wiped some more wetness from beneath her eyes.

"Anyway, what we had we lost long ago, and we've just been hangin' on because it's easier than gettin' divorced. You know that, as well as I do. Hell, when was the last time we had sex?"

Jack couldn't move. He shrugged. "I don't know."

"Six months ago. Can you believe that? And before that it'd been almost a year. That's not normal! It's not."

Her eyes returned to her hands, seemed to find them real interesting. "I'm sorry to have to tell you all this right now, but I keep promisin' Michael I'm gonna talk to ya, and well, now I have."

Jack remained silent. He felt a little sick to his stomach.

"Jack?"

He stood up quickly. He had to get out of there to think. Lureen sat up in her chair, a little shocked.

"You okay?"

He looked down at her. "You expect me ta be okay after all that?"

She stood. "It's been comin' down to this fer years, Jack."

Jack felt a stinging pang in his chest. He walked to the garage door.

"Where are you goin'? You don't have a car."

"I'm takin' yers."

"What?" Lureen stood and followed Jack to the utility room. "Jack, how will I get to work?"

"Ask Bobby ta drive you. I'm goin' out; I have ta think."

He opened the door and stepped out into the garage, getting to the black SUV in two long strides. He stopped momentarily before he hopped in the front seat to look at Lureen, her blond hair pulled back, her purple bra suspended above her still flat stomach. He saw her then as the woman he'd first met, not cold and business minded, but sassy and full of life and full of the vulnerability that she'd had before age and unhappiness hardened her.

He got in the Suburban and slammed the door, then started the engine and backed out of the garage.

* * *

Jack drove aimlessly for several hours, left Childress all together. He took I-287 nearly all the way to Vernon before around. The road was busy on a Friday morning, so it took him twice as long to travel the thirty or so miles. He watched the shiny new cars in the summer heat stop and go, stop and go beside him, listened to the pounding bass beats that blared out of some sports cars, noticed others (business people most likely) talking into their cell phones. Jack sat and watched. 

Lureen had been cheating on him. She'd been staying out later, not coming home… what had he thought was happening?

_"This whole time it's been blarin' in yer face. Where the hell were you?"_

Jack shook his head and jumped when a car to his right honked furiously. It had been obvious, sure, but at the same time Jack had been busy with his own problems.

_"And your own affair, remember?"_

Yes. He'd had an affair too. He'd betrayed Lureen just as she'd betrayed him. But…

_"She's been seein' this guy since May! Way before all a' this happened with Ennis."_

True, but at the same time, she hadn't actually started sleeping with him till Jack had left for Brokeback Mountain, which meant that technically they were even. And Jack had no excuse for sleeping with Ennis, it's not like he'd known Lureen was cheating and that had driven him to another man. But still…it hurt, and he couldn't exactly put his finger on why.

Jack searched the seat next to him for his cigarette case, then realized he was in the SUV and slumped back in the seat, defeated. He'd left his cigarettes in his truck, shit on a brick. He sighed, rolled the windows down a little farther and let the hot August air infiltrate the inside of the car.

What was he going to do now? He'd felt like he'd had a hold of something, like things were beginning to come together, to make sense, and now…this. Lureen with another man, which he really shouldn't have had a problem with, and he _didn't_, but there was still no denying that he felt like he'd been punched in the face.

_"Guess there's really no way ta handle betrayal. No matter how fucked a relationship is, it's still a blow ta find out yer wife's cheatin' on you."_

Finally Jack hit Highway 83 and he was back in Childress, but he still wasn't satisfied. He drove around the town, drove the back roads, passed his broken down truck and gave it a good old flick of the bird, and eventually found himself in the parking lot of the Rusty Mug, the bar he'd been at the night before. He'd considered going to the hospital for a visit with Eliza, but didn't think he was in the right mindset for that. So he figured it wasn't too early to start drinking even though it was barely passed noon.

_"Fuck it. You deserve to get drunk, really."_

And he thought he did, if ever there was an excuse. So he hopped out of the car (he felt bad about taking Lureen's SUV, but it had been his only way out of the situation and he knew she wouldn't have any trouble getting to work with Bobby), checked his back pocket for his wallet and walked into the dark bar to drink away all his troubles.

The Rusty Mug was just as dark as it had been the night before, but in a different way, in that middle of the day, blinds blocking the sunlight sort of way that tinted the whole place with browns and grays instead of blues and blacks. There were only two or three other people inside, not that many daytime drinkers surprisingly, and the bar itself was abandoned, so Jack sat himself down on the far end closest to the doors. He motioned to pull his hat down over his eyes, but realized that he hadn't grabbed it, then noticed that he'd tossed on a pair of old house loafers instead of his boots.

_"Well, shit."_

He felt somewhat naked without his reliable black hat and boots, and thought about leaving when someone walked up next to him and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Hey there, Cowboy. Been a long time."

Jack turned at the familiar voice and saw the waitress from the night before, one hand on her hip, one thin eyebrow arched. He smirked when he saw her.

"Yeah, seems like it."

"You must be on a mission, comin' in last night, now again this mornin'. You here ta see me?"

Jack smiled at the playful way her voice lilted and sang. He turned a little in his stool to face her.

"No one else here I'd rather see, so guess so." He watched her smile and lick her lips.

"Can I get ya somethin' ta drink?"

"How about some whiskey?"

She gave Jack a quirked smile. "You mean business then. All right, comin' right up."

He watched her walk behind the bar and grab a bottle of Jack Daniels. He noticed the bartender, Joe was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, ah, Teeny was it?"

"Sure was, honey." She slid a glass down to where Jack sat and then leaned over the bar to best accentuate her cleavage.

"Where's Joe? He don't work in the mornin's?"

Teeny shook her head. "Nope, and I'm not s'posed to neither, but I'm fillin' in fer Carla till she can get a babysitter for her sick kid. She said she'd take my shift tonight, so I got the mornin' one."

Jack nodded, took a sip of the whiskey and grimaced at the strong flavor and burn as it went down his throat and hit his empty stomach.

"Taste good there, Cowboy?"

Jack set the glass down. "Sure does." He looked Teeny in the eye, then took in her soft voluptuous lips and her large breasts, pressed together from the way she was leaning over the bar. He glanced back up and saw she was smirking because she'd noticed him admiring her.

He leaned forward on his stool and rested his elbows on the bar. "So what d'ya say, Teeny. Wanna take me up on that drink offer?"

She smiled and bent below the bar to grab another glass, filled it with some whiskey. "Sounds good to me, Jack."

"You remember."

"I always remember a handsome face." She chuckled seductively and Jack took another sip of the burning liquor.

* * *

A couple hours later and Jack was thoroughly drunk with Teeny close behind him. It didn't seem to matter that she got a little tipsy on the job, especially since there were only three other people in the place and they seemed to be doing okay. 

"So tell me about yerself cowboy." She cooed before taking another sip of whiskey.

"Not much ta tell right now. Or maybe there's too much ta tell, I'm not sure."

"That sounds interestin'. You married?"

Jack chuckled, the whiskey making him feel light and carefree. "Not fer long."

Teeny looked Jack in the eye. "That's good enough fer me."

They talked a little while longer, between customers at the bar and at other booths, and all the while Jack drank and drank, feeling his worries slip away. Finally 4:00 hit, and the next shift of waitresses came in, including the infamous Carla and Joe. Jack wasn't sure how it had happened, but he'd spent four hours in the smoky bar talking with the waitress Teeny.

He got up to leave, feeling like he should have gone long before, but when he stood, the room spun around him and his legs felt wobbly. He sat back down hard on the stool and felt the blood rush to his head. And then that gentle touch was on his shoulder again.

"You all right? You gonna make it home?"

Jack looked over at Teeny and saw that she'd taken off her apron and had her purse. He blinked.

"Uh…" For some reason he couldn't get the words out of his mouth.

She smiled. "Tell you what, how 'bout you come on back with me?"

Jack shrugged. "Okay."

She helped him stand up and they headed out the bar and into the parking lot. The sun was a shock after the four hours of gloom, and Jack winced and shielded his eyes.

"Jesus Christ, it's bright."

She just chuckled and led him to a beat up Ford Taurus, opened the door for him to get in the passenger seat. He collapsed onto the beaded seat cover and stretched his legs out as far as he could under the dashboard. Teeny got in behind the wheel and turned on the car.

"I'm only about four miles away from here, got me a nice little apartment outside a' town."

Jack remained silent and tried to keep the sickness down as the car backed out of the parking lot and drove over the bumpy pot-holed road, tried to focus his mind and will his way out of the drunk. They weren't on the road very long though, after a few minutes (since there was never much traffic in Childress even during rush hour) they arrived at the Greenview Apartments, a fairly new looking complex with three building, two stories each and high, brown shingled roofs. Jack didn't realize Teeny had gotten out of the car and before he knew it she was opening his door, hoisting him out and onto his feet.

"There we go. You still okay?"

Jack nodded and let her lead him to the apartment. Luckily it was on the first floor, so he didn't have to climb any steps. He stopped just inside the door and Teeny walked ahead of him tossing her keys on a small wooden side table.

"Home sweet home."

Jack looked around. It was fairly small, consisted of an open area that was the living room and kitchen separated only by a bar, the hall that was next to the kitchen he assumed led to her bedroom and bathroom.

"It's not much, but I didn't get much in the divorce. Gil's lawyer said I wasn't entitled to much since we didn't have any kids and there was no prenuptial agreement. Anyway, this is what I got, and I like it."

Jack could tell she took care of the small amount of belongings she owned, kept the place clean, and decorated smartly with some flowers and candles. Jack nodded.

"Looks nice."

"Yeah." Teeny walked over to Jack and ran her hand down his side, then back into his jeans pocket. He looked down at her and suddenly she had her lips pressed to his and had forced her tongue into his mouth, running it over his lips and teeth. As if in a dream, Jack reached out and pulled her close to him, ran his hand up and down her back until he'd pulled her blouse out from her tight jeans and had his hand on her skin. Teeny dragged him to her couch by the pocket and then broke the kiss, pushed Jack down onto the cushion and stood over him, lust full in her eyes.

She sat on Jack's lap and ripped his shirt open, stripped it off his back. Her bosom swelled with her heavy breathing and she ran her hands through his chest hair, started nibbling and biting at his neck.

"You know I've wanted ta do this since I saw you sit down at that booth last night, all by yerself, so mysterious." She sat up and looked Jack in the eyes.

Jack looked back, looked into her light hazel eyes, at her curly red hair, her soft lips with their smeared gloss and her freckles that ran down her neck towards her cleavage. Suddenly he felt something in the pit of his stomach, something close to panic.

She brought her hand down to his waist and unbuckled his belt then started to unbutton his jeans. Jack froze up. His intoxicated mind told him to just go ahead, fuck her, fuck her and say fuck you to Lureen and goodbye to being queer and just start over. But his stomach wasn't having it. It felt like it had climbed up into his throat and he knew this was wrong, knew it wasn't supposed to feel like this.

Teeny wrapped her hand around Jack's hardening cock and he grabbed her wrist, stopping her dead.

"No."

Teeny looked up, bewildered expression on her face. "No?"

Jack shook his head and wiggled away, gently pushing Teeny off of him and stood up. He zipped his pants, let his belt hang open, then took in a deep breath and rubbed his face.

"What's wrong?" He heard her voice behind him, no longer brassy and full, but quiet and a little tight.

Jack turned around to face the woman, still feeling light headed and the room still slightly spinning. He sat down in the armchair that faced the couch, looked down at the loafers he'd put on before storming out the house.

He sighed. "Everythin's wrong."

She sat still as a china doll, face painted with confusion and smeared makeup. "I don't understand."

And Jack didn't either, but he was starting to. He may have been drunk off his ass, but suddenly things seemed clearer than they had since he'd left Wyoming on Monday. He chuckled to himself and looked back up at the woman.

"I'm gay."

Jack was silent waiting for her to start screaming at him and push him out of her apartment. But she didn't do either, just sat there, the mouth slightly open, eyes squinty and small.

"You're gay?" Her voice was still quiet, questioning.

Jack chuckled again. "Yeah I guess so."

"You guess so? Don't ya know?"

Jack was thoughtful for a second. "You know Teeny, I don't think I really understood it till this very moment."

She was silent, gazing down at the floor, seeming to run the carpet's patterns over and over in her head. She looked up a crooked smile on her face. "I'm not sure if I should be happy you've come ta terms with yerself, or upset that I was the one that made you realize this."

Jack laughed out loud, a boisterous drunk sound. Teeny smiled wider. "You sure it's not just the drink makin' you think this?"

Jack shook his head. "Naw. I'm pretty damn sure. Hell, I was pretty sure before this, I was just too confused to really admit it." He shook his head again in disbelief. "And you know what else is great?"

_"I'm in love, that's what."_

He let that echo through his mind. _"I'm in love with Ennis Del mar."_ Book aside, everything aside, he was in love, and he couldn't deny that. He'd been mixed up before, but now it was all too clear. And it wasn't just the drink.

"What?"

Jack was jolted out of his thoughts, forgot he'd said anything else. "Nothin',"

They were both silent for a few minutes and then he looked back at Teeny. "Thank you."

She returned his gaze, eyes wide, and then tossed off his comment with the wave of her hand. "Oh Jesus. I didn't do nothin'. But I'll tell ya, this isn't quite what I expected out of this little rendezvous." She stood up, handed him his shirt.

"How 'bout I make you some coffee before I drop you off back at yer car. Maybe you'd like a little to eat, a sandwich?"

Jack smiled wide, his muscles still feeling a little loose and goofy from the drink. "Teeny, that would be amazin'. You ever been told what a sweetheart you are?"

"Oh, all the time. I'm known around the bar as the sweetest thing this side a' Ave. F." She winked and walked off into the kitchen, still wagging her hips as she went. Jack chuckled again to himself.

_"She really don't give up."_

He pulled his shirt back over his shoulders and smiled to himself as he leaned back in Teeny's arm chair.

* * *

Jack walked past the nurse's station on the children's floor of the Childress Regional Medical Center. He'd gotten the message on his cell phone just that morning (which he'd forgotten when he'd stormed out the day before) from Marla, saying that Eliza had been switched from Intensive Care because her fever had officially broken and would be able to go home in a week or so. 

The day before, drunk and tired off his ass in the small, yet oddly comfortable surrounding of Teeny's apartment, Jack had dozed off a few minutes after she'd offered to make him some coffee and a sandwich. One minute he'd been fairly alert, admiring a nicely crocheted afghan that Teeny had sprawled over the back of the couch, and the next thing he knew he was being nudged by the woman herself and told that she had to get to work (another morning shift), and that she could drop him at his car on her way in. Jack had sat up, slowly and carefully, feeling the beginnings of a headache (not a terrible one surprisingly), and realizing that he'd slept all night in Teeny's arm chair, the afghan he'd found so attractive pulled up to his chin.

She'd graciously poured him a cup of coffee to go and then they'd hopped back in the beat up Taurus and driven to the old familiar Rusty Mug. Jack had thanked her again, gotten only a wink and a pinch on the cheek in return and then had ambled over to Lureen's SUV (which he still felt guilty about taking) and had driven home, showered, checked his messages on his phone, and headed over to the hospital.

The children's floor was much cheerier than the bleak white-walled ICU; the walls were painted bright green and blue and yellow, and there were framed posters of Disney characters and movies that he recognized like _The Little Mermaid_. The radio played oldies over the speakers in the main room and he could hear the sounds of some children laughing in the play area.

But despite the all around good feeling of the floor, Jack was feeling bleak and uptight. Lureen still weighed heavy on his mind. He was getting a divorce and he didn't know what that meant for his future. Go back to Ennis? He realized now that his feelings weren't just based on the book (at least he was actually gay), and that what he felt for Ennis was legitimate whether the book actually led him to that conclusion or no. So what now? He'd made promises of family commitment. Lureen was going to be out the picture, but that didn't mean he was off the hook. He had a son who was on the verge of possibly making amends with him, and a granddaughter that loved him and needed his support.

Jack's stomach gurgled, the queasiness and slight head ache not making him feel better about any of this. It had all seemed clear and concise when he was drunk—nothing to worry about, right? But now that he was suffering the after effects of too much whiskey, he didn't know what to think. He was tired of thinking really, and was looking forward to some quality time with Eliza to ease his mind.

"Jack! Over here!" Marla's voice called out from behind Jack. He stopped and turned, realizing that he'd passed the room he was looking for all together. He smiled when he saw her.

"Hey there, Sweetie. How ya doin'?"

She smiled when he walked up and kissed his cheek. "Pretty good. Where were you last night?"

Jack pulled the first excuse he could think of out of his ass. "Oh, I was out drinkin', fergot my damned phone. Sorry I didn't call back, it was late and I figured I'd jest drop by today and surprise you." Not totally a lie.

"Well I would've missed you. I was just about ta go back home and grab some pajamas for Eliza. She's been wearin' a hospital gown for the past week and she wants some a' her own clothes."

"I don't blame her. I'd get awful tired a' havin' to function with my ass hangin' out the back a' my gown."

Marla smirked and playfully hit Jack on the arm. "Your always jokin' around, Jack." She smiled up at him. "Don't even change, you hear?"

Jack did his best to return her smile. "I'll try to keep that promise." He walked with Marla slowly towards the room. "So how is the little squirt doin'?"

Marla smiled. "She's so much better. It's amazin' the kind a' difference we've seen in here just in the last 24 hours. It seems like once her fever totally broke, she just started to liven up. Her cough is still bad and the X-rays show she still has fluid in her lungs, but her spirit has started to return and she's had more energy. It's wonderful."

Jack grinned. That was just the news he needed to make his day better. He walked the rest of the way into the room, too anxious to hang back any longer and Marla followed him in.

"Look who's here Eliza." Marla said.

Eliza had her room to herself and was sitting up in bed coloring a picture of a dog and cat jumping rope. When she heard Marla's voice she looked up and her eyes twinkled. She was worlds different from the way she'd looked when he'd first arrived on Tuesday. Her face was no longer pale—her cheeks had their normal peachy flush—and her whole aura just seemed more alive.

"Poppa! Haven't seen you in a couple days!"

Jack sat down in a chair next to his little girl. "Only since Thursday."

"Still."

Marla took a step in the direction of the door. "I'm gonna head on out. I'll be back in about and hour or so."

Jack nodded. "See ya."

"Bye Mama." Eliza waved and then continued coloring, her strokes slow and measured from her remaining weakness. Jack watched as the dog's collar little by little turned a deeper shade of blue. He looked up at his granddaughter.

"I'm glad ta see yer feelin' better. We were real worried for a little while."

Eliza kept her eyes on her artwork. "I know. But I'll be okay now."

Jack smiled, felt emotion build in his chest and took in a deep breath. "Good to hear, sweetheart."

He squeezed her little arm and sat back in his chair. "So what've you been doin' the past day or so."

Eliza shrugged. "Sleepin'. Mama won't let me sit up and color for too long, says she don't want me tirin' myself out. I watch T.V., and that's about it, not much different from what I did a few days ago."

"Cept now you color."

She nodded. "Right, but not for very long."

Jack chuckled. "Yer mom's jest lookin' out for ya."

Eliza smiled. Jack sighed and for the first time in the past 24 hours, felt genuinely good. Eliza abruptly stopped her coloring and turned to Jack.

"Did I ever tell you I finished the book?"

Jack shook his head, brought his eyebrows together. "What book?"

Eliza rolled her eyes. "The one you bought me in June. I finished it a couple weeks ago."

Realization suddenly hit Jack. "Oh! The Goosebumps book, right?" He'd almost forgotten about the book he'd bought her, it had been overshadowed by the book he'd bought himself that day.

"Yeah it was real cool, you got to pick your own fate in it."

Jack felt his stomach stir a little. "That so?" He thought for a minute. "Yeah, I remember noticin' that when I bought it."

"It was so annoyin' too! Took me forever to read because I kept changin' my mind and goin' back, cuz I really didn't wanna mess it up, ya know?"

Jack just nodded. "I can imagine."

She laughed. "It was really weird, about these worms that were tryin' to eat this whole town and I had to save the day. When I got to a certain point in the book, there'd be a page that'd say, 'Do you want to go and explore the laboratory, or do you want to go back home and make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.' It was weird." She used a deep, funny voice when she quoted the book.

"Well I decided to go the laboratory the first time but then half way through I got chicken, so I went back and decided to make a sandwich. Know what happened?"

He shook his head. "No, what?"

"Turned out the stupid worms were in the sandwich or somethin' and I died."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "That certainly sounds unfortunate."

"Yeah, I know. So I went back to where I was, but then I got chicken again and decided not ta tell anyone about what I'd seen in the laboratory. That didn't work either."

"The worms get into another sandwich?"

Eliza chuckled and coughed a little. Jack handed her a glass of water and she sipped. Then shook her head. "No, the town just got attacked and I died again."

"This sounds like a lose-lose sort a' situation."

Eliza shook her head again, a twinkle in her eye. "Nope. I died like five times before I found out that the stupid path I should have taken was the one I started out with in the first place. That was the one that was all exciting and in the end I finished without dying! I was just too chicken to stick too it."

Jack swallowed, suddenly felt like the room was too hot. "That so."

"Yup. I think the whole thing taught me some sort a' lesson too."

"Really, and what was that?"

Eliza smiled. "I think from now on I'm gonna do what my gut tells me to. Otherwise the next thing ya know I'll be eatin' a sandwich full a' worms and never know what could a' been, ya know?"

Jack knew. He felt like his head was spinning again but not from drunkenness. "Those are awful big thoughts and words for a 9 year old."

"10 this December."

Jack just smiled, and tried to keep his hands from shaking. He suddenly felt like he needed some air, so he excused himself for a brief moment and went to the vending machine he'd passed near the elevator.

_"Holy shit, what just happened?"_

He'd been hit by a ton of bricks (or a can of worms), that's what had happened. He suddenly felt like he had to hightail it out of there, had to go home and had to get his shit together and back to Wyoming as soon as possible.

_"Oh shit, I made such a mistake, such a huge fuckin' mistake. Gotta tell Ennis, gotta get back to Wyoming to see him. Should a' never made that phone call."_

It was weird but Eliza, his nine-year-old (10 in December) granddaughter had put his whole life in perspective while talking about some scary book that he'd bought her.

_"…you got to pick your own fate in it."_

Jack felt himself shiver as he arrived at the Pepsi Machine. He put in $1.25 and pressed the button to get a water bottle out, heard the machine whir and click and then there was a loud thump as the heavy bottle hit the opening of the machine. He reached down, grabbed the bottle, twisted the cap off as quickly as possible and chugged half the cold water down—felt good on his throat and his jittery stomach and helped to clear his mind.

_"Okay, Twist, don't get too far ahead a' yerself here. One step at a time, right?"_

Right. And what he had to do first was wait for Marla to get back, and then he could go back to his house, re-pack his bags and catch the first flight to Wyoming, fuck driving, he was sick of it already.

* * *

Jack pulled shirts out of his closet and jammed them into his suitcase, did the same with pants, socks, and underwear. All he could focus on was getting packed as soon as possible; he'd called the Amarillo International Airport on his way back to the house and found out there was a flight leaving for Sweetwater at four o'clock that evening. He'd arranged for the airport to send a cab out to get him at one (so he didn't have to take Lureen's poor SUV), which would be ridiculously expensive, but Jack really didn't care. That gave him a half hour to get ready and three hours to get there, just to be safe. He'd spent his first few minutes back at the house writing Lureen a note, explaining his absence, and saying that it was all water under the bridge, that he was happy for her and hoped she could be happy for him. Now it was almost one, and he was running around the house like a mad man trying to pack his bags. 

He paused and counted the things he'd stuffed into his bag to make sure he had enough for as long as it took to work things out. Honestly, Jack didn't have a clue how things _would_ work out, but he just knew that he had to try.

He'd had a revelation, something that he hadn't understood before. He'd discovered that he'd never be able to give his family all he could if he wasn't happy to begin with. And God knew he'd be miserable living in Childress by himself, most likely sold short on the business and having to watch Lureen live her fairy tale ending with her fella Derk, or Spike, or Mike. If he wasn't with Ennis, he wasn't anything, he'd known that, but now he was going to do something about it.

Jack was tired of playing by other's rules, tired of "being chicken" and taking the safe route, what he'd been doing his entire fucking life before Annie Proulx had come along with her crazy story. And for a little while he'd slipped back into that old habit, that old Jack. There was no "Brokeback" Jack or "Real" Jack, only old Jack and new Jack, and _new_ Jack did "what his gut told him to do", he chose the path that was "exciting".

Jack zipped up his bag and dragged it with him across the house to the guest room where he'd been staying. Ennis had been right and it made him smile.

"Let's take a chance writin' our own version, Ennis. I'm game if you are."

He walked through the door into the light green bedroom and looked around, making sure he wasn't leaving anything behind. His eyes ran over the dresser and the bed and then they landed on the folded shape of Ennis' worn plaid shirt. Jack's heart seemed to skip a beat and he walked over to the bed, gingerly lifted the shirt and brought it to his face to smell.

Ennis' scent was less apparent now, had faded slightly and mingled with his own since he'd slept with it by his head for the past week. But it still evoked a memory, of the clear mountain air, the trickling stream near by, the warmth of the fire and of Ennis' strong lanky body, kept muscular and taught with years of ranch work.

Suddenly the doorbell rang and Jack opened the suitcase, stuffed the shirt in as carefully as possible and grabbed his hat (made sure he didn't forget it this time). He dragged his bag down the hall and to the front door, anxious about not keeping the taxi waiting for too long.

"Be there in jest a minute!" He yelled, hoping they heard him and waited. He ran back into his bedroom and quickly opened the bottom drawer of his nightstand, pulled out a wad of cash from the very back, hidden behind some paperbacks he'd collected, and stuffed them in his wallet.

He sprinted back out into the hall, hoisted his bag and walked to the front door. The taxi driver knocked three times. Jack frowned.

"I'm comin', I'm comin', keep yer pants on!" He set down his bag, checked his back pocket for his phone, then opened the door.

Jack blinked, took in the man standing at his door all at once, from the worn

leather boots he'd seen for the first time at the Bottom's Up Bar in Riverton, to the faded tan hat he was busy twisting between his fingers. Jack felt his stomach drop out of his body and knees turn to jelly. He tried to form words, but the man in front of him beat him to it.

"Jack…" Ennis Del Mar spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.


	24. Chapter 22

_The long and winding road_

_that leads to your door_

_will never disappear;_

_I've seen that road before._

_It always leads me here,_

_Lead me to you door._

_The wild and windy night_

_that the rain washed away,_

_has left a pool of tears; crying for the day._

_Why leave me standing here?_

_Let me know the way…_

_Many times I've been alone_

_and many times I've cried._

_Anyway you'll never know_

_the many ways I've tried._

_But still they lead me back_

_to the long winding road._

_You left me standing here_

_a long, long time ago._

_Don't leave me waiting here,_

_Lead me to your door._

* * *

"Jack…" Ennis Del Mar spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. The sun was straight overhead and it illuminated everything to an unnatural shade, made Ennis seem like some sort of angel, his soft hair golden and shining, the sea of deep green and blue from the grass and sky his halo. Nature's everyday noises buzzed and hummed in the bushes and trees, and in the distance a car could be heard driving down the dirt road, it's wheels and engine alien against the sounds of insects and birds chirping and cooing. 

Jack gripped the door handle, felt his stomach begin its long climb back to its rightful place, the shock slowly beginning to dissolve, loosening his mouth into a smile and allowing him to open the door a little wider. He stepped back.

"Wanna come in?" They seemed the most natural words for the moment.

Ennis ducked his head slightly and stepped into the open hall, its white walls immaculate, making the entrance of the house look bigger. His boots echoed on the hard wood floor. Jack closed the door then turned to face Ennis.

He was wearing a nice white and blue striped shirt, tucked into his jeans, and was still twisting his hat around in his hands, moving it absently from side to side. He looked into Jack's eyes. His own were troubled, as though he expected the worst, as though he hadn't noticed how Jack was smiling like a fool. He jumped right to the point.

"Jack…" He cleared his throat. "I dunno what to say, I've never been in this situation before, never…fought fer what I wanted…" He cut his eyes off to the side.

Jack felt something blossom in the pit of his stomach and he couldn't keep himself from touching that man standing in front of him (so unsure) for a second longer. He took two steps to where Ennis stood and grabbed his face in both his hands, forced Ennis to look at him.

For a minute he couldn't say anything, was too taken with the softness in Ennis' eyes, too distracted by the warmth of his cheeks, the life that coursed through him. He was suddenly struck with this man's humanity, suddenly painfully aware that here stood another man, a separate living being that cared for him and _wanted_ him. He felt his heart rate quicken and sucked in a deep breath, ran a thumb over the side of Ennis' cheek.

"Goddamn boy, you certainly know how ta surprise someone."

Jack stole a glance at his mouth, saw his lips were slightly open, inviting. He brushed his fingers over Ennis' mouth, like a blind man might commit someone's face to memory, closed his eyes. He heard Ennis' hat drop to the ground, felt his arms wrap around him and pull him into a fierce bear hug, holding him tight, grabbing at his shirt, his face buried in his neck, the best feeling in the world, hot breath on his skin as he muttered,

"Thought I'd never see you again. Damn Jack, though I'd lost you fer good."

Jack held onto that man like a life saver, felt all the emotion he'd been holding in the past week bubble up over his lips and he was laughing, laughing like he hadn't laughed since he'd left Ennis, a joyful sound, a relief. He pulled away slightly and grabbed Ennis' face in both hands once again.

"You'll never loose me, even when ya get sick a' me and want to." He grinned and laughed some more. Ennis' eyes made tracks over Jack's face, seeming to reassure himself that Jack was really there in his arms.

"I don't really know what's goin' on here…" The sides of his mouth quirked into a small questioning smile.

Jack just laughed harder. "Ennis, I don't either." He liked how it felt to have Ennis' face between his hands, liked the roughness against his smooth open palms, felt so right, so natural. In one quick movement Jack brought his mouth to Ennis', sucking his lower lip between his own, licking the little indentation between his chin and mouth.

He heard Ennis make a soft noise, more a little sigh of relief, and his body relaxed into his, pressing against him, their chests and stomach and legs melding together till they could have been one person. Ennis brought his hand to the back of Jack's head and then let it trail down through his hair, massaged the nape of his neck. Jack's own hands were busy moving slowly down Ennis' back, heading towards his ass, wanting to touch and fondle him, wanting to feel his naked skin, the weight and warmth of him in his hands—a feeling Jack for a while had crazily been willing to give up. He ran lazy circles over the seat of Ennis' jeans with his fingers, and then Ennis' deepened the kiss, taking his tongue into his mouth, sucking and licking, breathing out, soft, short moans and breaths growing louder, heavier.

Jack felt his dick press against his jeans, felt his whole abdomen tingle as a shiver ran down his spine—he fed greedily on this moment, not wanting it to stop, like a person breaking a fast after two longs months. Jack moved his right hand away from Ennis' ass and brought it to the front of his jeans, slowly ran over the hardening bulge, kneading and rubbing his dick, wanting to unzip him so he could wrap his hand around it, big and warm and hard just for him.

Ennis broke the kiss but didn't separate their bodies. He looked at Jack, eyes dark with lust, then closed them, tilted his head back slightly, a moan of pleasure slipping past his lips. Jack felt his dick throb at the sight and moved his other hand to Ennis' zipper, started to undo his jeans. Ennis cleared his throat.

"Jack."

Jack licked his lips, didn't want to stop, nuzzled Ennis' face and nose with his own, eyes closed, breathing still heavy.

"Yeah?" He dragged the zipper down and slowly moved his hand south into the front of Ennis' pants. Ennis grabbed his hand. Jack opened his eyes.

"Much as I like where this is goin', I need ta know what's happenin'." He swallowed and took in a breath, obviously trying to control himself.

Jack leaned forward pressed his face into Ennis' neck, sucked on the skin right below his ear, licked and nibbled down his neck.

"What's happenin' is I'm tryin' to get you ta take me ta bed." He mumbled the words between kisses and licks.

Ennis lifted his chin, giving Jack access as he made a trail towards his chest.

"No, really." His voice was thick, distracted. "I…mean…I guess I didn't know what to expect when I got here, but I was thinkin' there'd be more of an' uphill battle."

Jack kissed Ennis' collarbone once more, quick and dry, and then stepped back. "I can see where you'd be confused." He couldn't keep from smiling like a fool, figured his face might get stuck that way (like his Ma always used to tell him) if he kept it up.

"And I sure as hell am." He cleared his throat again, moved his shoulders like he was trying to clear his mind, trying to collect himself. "Though certainly is a pleasant surprise."

Jack sighed. He realized that whatever he wanted to do would have to wait a little bit longer. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, getting some of the wet off. "Come on into the kitchen."

He walked down the hall, stepping over his bag and led Ennis into the stone tiled kitchen. Ennis stepped over the bag as well, gave it a good look. "Were you goin' some where?"

Jack smiled to himself. "I was about ta head over to the airport to fly ta Wyoming."

That stopped Ennis in his tracks. "To Wyoming?" His voice was quiet, surprisingly soft.

Jack nodded and motioned for Ennis to take a seat at the kitchen table. Ennis walked to the chair closest to the window (the chair Jack had called him from two nights ago), boots clacking on the cold stone floor, and sat down.

"You want somethin' ta drink? A beer?"

"Water?"

"Sure thing." Jack went to the cabinet, pulled out a small juice glass and then grabbed the Brita pitcher from the fridge and filled it up. He handed the glass to Ennis and he nodded in thanks. The doorbell rang. All at once, Jack remembered the taxi he'd called.

"Ah, shit. Hold on there a minute, bud."

He ran up to the door, cursing himself now for calling the stupid airport's cab service, and opened it. A small man wearing a Rangers baseball cap and a worn leather jacket stood chewing gum on Jack's porch.

"Ready ta go?"

Jack smiled apologetically. "Uh, actually, I won't be needin' yer services now. Plans changed."

The small man's face fell. He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. "You jest want me to head on back?"

Jack pulled out his wallet, sorted through his stack of bills. "How much would it a' been to get there? I'll pay you. Awful sorry 'bout the trouble." But he couldn't really feel bad about _anything_ at the moment.

The man smacked his lips, chewing like a cow on cud. "Would a' cost ya 'bout 80 bucks, plus tip."

Jack nodded, pulled out a one hundred dollar bill and folded it into the man's hand. "Here ya go. Keep the change. Sorry again 'bout the inconvenience."

The man smiled at the size of the tip and nodded his head. "S'alright, mister. Nice doin' business with ya."

Jack closed the door and sighed, pushed the taxi driver from his mind and bounded back into the kitchen. "Sorry 'bout that Ennis. I called a taxi ta take me to the airport."

"Didn't wanna drive?"

Jack shook his head and leaned down on the table, hands fanned out over the wood. "Nope. One—I'm fuckin' tired a' drivin' to Riverton. Two—my truck broke down once and fer all jest a little ways from here."

"What happened?"

Jack waved away the comment. "Story fer another day." They were silent for a minute, Jack standing near the table and Ennis looking around the kitchen, obviously trying to take it all in.

"Sure is a nice place you got here."

"What workin' at Newsome Farm Equipment will get ya after a while."

Ennis seemed to let that idea roll around his mind. He lifted his glass to take a sip.

"Yer wife Lureen here?"

Jack shook his head. "Nah, she's at work, I think. She might be off with her boyfriend, though."

Ennis spit his water back into the glass and coughed. Jack stepped closer and slapped him on the back.

"You okay?"

Ennis nodded and took in a deep, shuddered breath. He looked up at Jack with big questioning eyes. "What in the hell's been goin' on here, Jack?"

Jack shook his head and sat down across from Ennis. "Friend, so much's happened in the past week, hell, in the past few days. I don't even know where ta begin."

Ennis was silent. Jack looked across the table at him and felt his heart soften. "Damn Ennis, I can't believe you're really here. What made ya come? I would a' never guessed you would a gotten in yer truck and driven all the way down here. I…I don't even know what ta say."

Ennis took another sip of water and set the glass down, folded his hands on the wooden table. "You tell first, you got so much ta say."

Jack raised one eyebrow and smirked. "Oh I see, yer playin' that game, huh?"

Ennis shook his head. "No games. No more."

Jack nodded, understood what Ennis was saying and leaned forward on the table with his elbows. "Me n' Lureen are gettin' a divorce."

Ennis was silent for a minute, took another sip of water, blinked. "Okay."

Jack tried to read Ennis' face for any trace of excitement, but if there was he was doing a good job hiding it. He looked off to the side.

"She told me yesterday mornin' that she wanted one because she'd found herself a new man, a man who made her happy." He shook his head again. "I'll tell ya, I was shocked as hell, though I should a' known all along, she's been acting different fer weeks, but I've been so damned distracted I never noticed."

He poured more water in Ennis' glass then grabbed it and took a sip himself. Ennis remained silent.

"Anyway. So that's one thing. Then…" He looked back to the man sitting across from him—Ennis' eyes intently locked on his own, brown and shining, face open and listening. He felt a ball of emotion, of love, well in the back of his throat and he coughed, made like it was a tickle.

"Then…I had a realization. Somethin' sort a' hit me, in a funny way. And…" He couldn't seem to get the words out, couldn't formulate what he had in his mind to make any sense. Ennis sat patiently, the water in front of him forgotten.

He swallowed. "When I called you a couple nights ago, I was real mixed up, not thinkin' straight. I don't know if I'd _ever_ been thinkin' bout things the right way till now." He paused, took another sip out of Ennis' glass.

"Ya see, before, I was all caught up in the story, constantly thinkin' bout what it meant and what _this_ meant," he gestured to the space between them. "And doin' that I missed the point. The book don't matter, it's almost…it's _besides_ the point. However Annie Proulx came up with it and however closely it parallels our lives—forget it. What matters," Jack made sure Ennis was looking in his eyes, wanted to get his point across here, know for certain Ennis' understood him. "What matters is that the book _led_ me to you. With out it, I'd never a' known you existed, and then where'd I be?"

Ennis looked down at his hands, fiddled with them absent-mindedly. Jack stood up and sat in the chair next to Ennis, scooted it close so that their knees touched.

"Ennis, I _love_ you. And I don't love you because a' the book, like I might a' thought there fer a while, but because…" He searched for the reason in his mind, found something that he could hold on to, clung to it with all his life.

"You are the only one that's looked me in the eye and really given a shit about me. You didn't even know who I was and yet you were willin' ta help me, to look after me." Jack felt his eyes and mouth twitch, felt hot tears build up, and sharp pain in his throat, but he wouldn't let the tears fall.

"I've felt alone most a' my life. I don't know why, and maybe it's partially my fault, but you were the first person that made me feel like maybe I _wasn't_ alone, that maybe there could be more…" He swallowed hard, let out a shuddering breath and a little sob that he'd been trying to hold back.

Ennis turned in his chair, grabbed Jack's hand and gently kissed the palm, his lips tickling the soft, clammy skin. Jack closed his eyes and reached out with his other hand to grab the back of Ennis' head, pulled their mouths back together, urgently, tenderly, hot lips and spit.

"Jack, I need ya so bad. Never needed anythin' like this." Words whispered between kisses, silent, barely audible.

Jack stood up, pushed Ennis back into his own chair and climbed on top of him, never separating their mouths. He probed his tongue deeper and deeper into his mouth, moving up and down, rubbing his ass against Ennis' hard cock, rubbing his own throbbing dick on Ennis' stomach. He rocked back and forth, up and down, panting into Ennis' mouth, his tongue licking, his teeth biting. Ennis' hands dropped to Jack's hips and held them, aided his movement up and down, the friction between their jeans almost too much to bear.

Ennis pulled his mouth away suddenly and brought his hands down to Jack's belt, unbuckled and worked the button and zipper of his jeans furiously, his hands shaking. Jack took the hint, started on the buttons of Ennis' shirt, couldn't get them open fast enough and ripped it open, stray buttons flying across the kitchen, the sounds of them hitting the ground echoing around the room—one landed in the metal sink with a loud, "clink". He stood up and stripped his own shirt off, practically jumping out of his pants; Ennis fiddling madly with is own jeans and pulling them down, revealing his erect penis, red and dripping from the dry friction of their thrusts. All rational thought flew out the window as Jack spit into his own hand and wrapped his fingers around Ennis. Ennis moaned and let his head fall back, eyes closed, mouth open. Jack spit more into his hand, slicking up Ennis' dick and positioned himself over him.

He sucked in a breath and relaxed, then sat down, positioning Ennis with his hand, pressing his dick into the opening of his ass. He closed his eyes, wincing with pain and with the anticipated pleasure. The burn felt good, something he'd gotten used to up on Brokeback and had then questioned once he'd returned to Childress. It had taken all this, (Leroy, Lureen, Bobby, Teeny, Eliza) to realize that this is what he wanted, he wanted Ennis in him, with him, where ever he went, Ennis, Ennis, Ennis.

And then he was back on his lap, his balls and dick pressed against Ennis' stomach, his thighs resting on top of Ennis' thighs. He lifted himself up slightly and then brought himself down. Ennis moaned and closed his eyes, clenched his jaw like he did so often, but not from anger, no, far from it. He let his hands run from Jack's chest back to his hips, held on while Jack slowly bucked up and down. Jack let out a grunt of discomfort, shifted his weight slightly and then lifted up again, and when he came back down, he felt it, that sharp pang of pleasure—sent shock waves through his balls and dick.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh Ennis." His voice sounded pained, whimpering.

He continued to move and each wonderful buck sent wave after wave of ecstasy through his dick. He felt his eyes close and he moved faster, his leg muscles already getting tired, but not caring, not caring about anything except this feeling, oh god more, this feeling, oh god.

Ennis was panting, and soon their breaths were almost in synch, their movements, though small, in perfect timing. Ennis lifted up and Jack came down, intensifying the pang, rocketing him through the roof. Jack grabbed Ennis' shoulders and squeezed into his soft flesh, held on while their groins bucked and thrust into each other. He opened his eyes and looked down at the man underneath him, his eyes squinty shut, his mouth still hanging open, his golden hair starting to darken with beads of sweat--Jack felt his heart swell, felt like he might explode from the sight of that man, helpless and loving him, wanting him, wiling to drive down to Texas and fight for him.

He stroked the side of his face, gently ran his fingers over his cheek, then over his mouth. He played with Ennis' lips and to his surprise, Ennis sucked Jack's fingers into his mouth, teasing them and licking at them as though it was actually Jack's dick. Jack moaned.

"Oh god. Ennis, so good. Uh, so good."

Their speed quickened and Ennis' sucking intensified, but Jack pulled his hand away and instead tilted Ennis' face up towards his and brought their lips together, returning the favor and playing with his tongue. Ennis' whole being hummed with electricity and then his hand was on Jack's dick, massaging the tip, the way he knew drove Jack crazy, massaging it, running one finger back and forth over the head, making lazy circles.

It was too much, all that feeling at once, and Jack felt the end gaining on him. He bucked faster as though he was trying to catch up with his orgasm or outrun it completely. Ennis' moaned into his mouth and Jack felt Ennis' stomach muscles and legs tense, he was close too. He parted their mouths to whisper,

"Shit Ennis, once more, Ennis, shit." One last thrust, and then it was all over and he was spilling over Ennis' fingers onto his chest and he was shaking from the force of it, lifting his hips up and up, yelling out.

And then he collapsed forward, exhausted and yet alive, more alive than he'd felt before, more so because now he knew what this really meant, now he understood this was life, that it really wasn't "no story".

He panted and finally felt his heart rate slow, felt Ennis breathing shallowly into his neck. He sat up and cupped Ennis' cheek, suddenly realizing he wasn't sure if Ennis finished.

Jack frowned. "Did you come, baby?"

Ennis' was still panting and he swallowed. "Damn. Sure did. Same time as you."

Jack felt his lips curl at the corners. In the mad rush of things, his own heated passion, he hadn't even noticed, had sort of blacked out everything except what he was feeling in between his legs and in his heart.

He chuckled. Ennis wrapped his arms around Jack's back, brought his head to his chest and squeezed tight. They held each other like that for a few seconds and Jack played with Ennis' curls, faded, not so golden as they'd probably been in his youth, but bright nonetheless.

He felt Ennis' throat working against him. "Jack, I don't have fancy words like you do."

Jack quieted his thoughts and listened intently to the muffled voice coming from underneath him. He rested his chin on the top of his head, his silence encouraging Ennis to continue.

"I've never been good with expressin' the way I feel. Never done what I really wanted neither, always held back, afraid a' things…"

Jack's heart beat a little faster and he continued to slowly stroke Ennis' hair, trying to ease him into continuing. There was a pause, and Ennis' chest rose, moved against Jack's.

"But the thing is…I can't imagine livin' without this any longer. I never known anythin' like it before. Never had the chance, never gave myself the chance, but somethin' bout that dumbass smile a' yers made me wanna try."

He felt Ennis' shudder underneath him, felt drops of warm wetness on his stomach and realized Ennis was crying.

"Jack," His voice was low, so quiet, afraid still. "I wanna be with you." He paused again. "This past week's been like hell fer me. I'd never known bein' alone could be so hard till I spent time with you." He shuddered again, and Jack tightened his grip. "I don't wanna be alone anymore. Damnit."

Ennis sucked in a breath, couldn't hold back his sobbing noises any longer. Jack just held him there, in the kitchen of his old home, the afternoon stretching out. He held him, comforted him, and took comfort in him. He made soothing sounds with his mouth, rocked him slightly like he would a child. They sat that way for several minutes, till Ennis' tears had stopped, till all was quiet and warm. Suddenly Jack remembered something.

"Ennis, I gotta get up fer a second." As much as he loathed the idea. He stood carefully, Ennis slipping out of him slowly, and then he sprinted out the kitchen and down the hallway, feeling cold away from his man.

"You are naked as the day you were born walkin' past those windows, I hope you realize." Ennis called after his retreating form, voice still shaky from tears.

"No one's gonna be standin' outside lookin' in, ya ninny. Not like they wanna see an old man naked anyway."

Ennis chuckled, a quiet sound, but something Jack could hear from down the hall.

"You are crazy, Twist. Knew that the moment I met you."

Jack grinned, unzipped his suitcase and grabbed the shirt he'd stuffed inside only an hour or so earlier. He walked back into the kitchen.

"That's what ya like 'bout me though, right?"

He sauntered over to Ennis and sat back on top of him, settling himself down.

"Like I said once before, you ain't the lightest thing in the world." Ennis had a faint smirk on his lips, that expression he got when he was joking around, a mixture between playful and shy.

"I ain't had my fill a squashin' you yet." He put the shirt in Ennis' hand, forced Ennis' fingers to close over it.

Jack watched his eyes soften and start to water again. A blanket of warmth settled over him. "I was gonna bring it back to ya, like you told me ta do. But looks like you came back fer it instead."

He watched Ennis sniff and tighten his grip on the shirt. He looked at Jack. "Thank you. Jack, thank you."

"I know those aren't easy words fer you ta say…"

"Never been. But I mean it. Thank you fer not forgettin'." Jack brought his face close to his, rubbed his cheek over Ennis' rough stubble, loved the way it scratched his skin.

He whispered, soft, into his ear. "You really wanna give this a go then?"

Ennis nodded, swallowed hard. "You sayin' you weren't comin' back was a bad shock. Made me suddenly realize what it'd really be like ta never see you again. Hopped in my truck as soon's I explained ta Stoutamire that I needed more time off."

Jack sat up. "How'd that go?"

Ennis shrugged. "Stoutamire owes me. He knows that. And I've been workin'

since you left, so rightfully I got those days to spend still."

He was silent for a moment and then looked down at the shirt, brought it up to his chest, held it tight, his knuckles almost white. "Didn't know if I'd be gettin' this back."

Jack swallowed. He let the severity of what he'd done sink in like ice. Ennis had been so unsure about what he wanted when they'd been on Brokeback, so hesitant to agree to start up some life together, Jack hadn't thought too much about his feelings when he'd made that phone call. But Jack looked at his man now, saw the ghost of hurt in his eyes and was suddenly so sorry. He hadn't wanted to hurt Ennis, had been trying to avoid hurting his family, and had just ended up making things bad for this man, this man he loved with all his being.

"Never meant ta hurt you Ennis. Never wanna hurt you again."

Their lips came together, soft, yet hot, fire when they touched like always.

Jack smiled then, wiped under Ennis' eyes with his thumbs. Ennis chuckled at himself. "Here, cryin' like a little girl."

Jack rubbed the crook of his neck. "Nah. Not a little girl." He paused. "Maybe a teenage girl, sixteen, seventeen."

Ennis barked laughter, something that went right to Jack's core and he smiled wide for the hundredth time, a grin that touched his eyes, took up half his face. Ennis settled back down and ran his hands up Jack's back.

Jack bit his lip, serious again. "If we do this I can't give up my family, Bobby n' Eliza. Don't wanna hurt them anymore neither."

Ennis nodded. "And I won't give up Junior and the new baby. Francine's comin' ta town too now. Damn, whole world seems like its just crashin' down 'round me."

Jack tangled his fingers in the hair on Ennis' chest, twisted absent-mindedly.

Ennis rubbed Jack's sides. "So what we do now then?"

Jack looked down into his man's eyes, saw his own reflection there and somehow that warmed him in a way nothing else could, eased his mind— Ennis was there, in Texas with him, holding him, filling him up, and only had eyes for him. They'd find a way, something.

He shook his head, brushed his lips across Ennis' gently once more, tasted smoke and sweat, and fire—everything they'd had on Brokeback in the book _and_ in reality.

"Truth is Ennis…" He ran his hands up to his neck, loved the muscles under his fingers. "I got no idea."

And that was enough for now.

The End.


	25. Epilogue

Wheatland, Wyoming

April 14, 2001

She woke early that morning, earlier than she had to since it was a Saturday and she didn't have much to do except feed the dogs and a little grocery shopping—maybe she'd call Sylvia and see how her new job was going, how the kids were liking their new school.

But all in all there was nothing cookin'. She didn't know why she'd been roused out of slumber at 7:00 rather than her usual 9:00. She liked sleeping in, enjoyed it when she had the chance, the warmth of her bed that she missed when she was off traveling. But today the sun had barely risen above the horizon when her eyes had popped open and remained that way. So she'd gotten up, put on her slippers and threw on her Concordia sweatshirt (her closest link to the old George Williams University sweater she'd had, now long worn out and thrown away).

The night before Andy had come over, and they'd had a little bit of wine though she'd never been much of a drinker. She could tell that he wanted to get her into bed the whole time, and she'd been hesitant to say yes or no. The night had ended with him getting restless and heading back into town, which was just as well. It's not like she really desired a relationship with a small town divorce lawyer—that just reeked of trouble, since heaven knew _she_ certainly wasn't the marrying kind.

"_Three divorces okay with me, thank you very much."_

It was April, but the air still clung to its chilly tendencies, even though Wheatland was considered part of southern Wyoming. The wind was whipping around the corners of her old (though newly renovated) ranch house, a fairly lonely residence on its ten acres of land with its nearest neighbor five miles down the road. But that's the way she liked it; it allowed her solitude when she needed it, away from the critics and the agents and the movie producers (hassling her over _The Shipping News_, Jesus, she didn't care!) and she could write in peace.

She hadn't been doing too much writing in the past couple weeks though, she'd pretty much worn herself out with her latest, a novel called _That Old Ace in the Hole_. She always got that way after novels, always felt like she needed a little bit of a breather, or to work on some more short stories, which was a notion that had been tickling her for a few days. She was itching to write some more Wyoming stories, felt called to the land here, the hard life, the desperation of the people, their struggle to survive. And after her last batch (which still seemed to have a powerful hold on her) she felt like she might want to try her hand and concocting a few more.

"_Give it time, old girl. You'll know what's right when it's right."_

Good advice, but she'd never been known to follow her own. Once in the kitchen she made two eggs and fried up some bacon—her doctor told her she needed to cut out her fat, but she didn't listen, bacon was too delicious on a Saturday morning to forgo. She ate in silence, sopping the crispy meat in the egg yolk while she perused the local newspaper for anything story worthy.

By the time 9:00 had rolled around she'd eaten, showered, fed the dogs, and scrawled a decent sized grocery list on the back of a Chinese take out menu.

"_Getting up early has its advantages…"_ She mused, though still didn't think she's make a practice out of it.

She flipped on the radio for some noise and then put on her shoes and her scarf, prepared to trek down her long winding dirt drive to check the mail. She'd meant to check it the day before, but had gotten caught up with cleaning and then going out with Andy.

Stepping through the side door, she took in a deep breath of fresh air and shivered slightly as a gust of wind blew her scarf behind her, then started walking, gravel crunching beneath her Birkenstocks. She thought about what she could make for dinner that night with a full refrigerator. Thought maybe she'd call Mary and see if she wanted to have dinner and watch a movie. She'd picked up _The Patriot_ when she was in New York the week before, had heard it was good but just hadn't gotten around to watching it.

"_Not to mention Mel Gibson is delicious…"_

She got to her mailbox and opened it, wasn't surprised to see it was empty except for a thick envelope and a flyer for The Book Nook, a store downtown that had coerced her to sign the guest list so she'd receive updates about sales and new releases. She skipped over that and looked at the envelope. It was from her Agent.

She closed the mailbox and walked quickly back up the drive. She wasn't sure what Liz had sent her, but she figured it was something regarding the upcoming publication of _That Old Ace in the Hole_.

She moseyed into the house, staring at the envelope the whole time; it felt oddly thick in her hand, and she couldn't keep her eyes off it. It was bulky like a contract, but she'd just flown into New York to sign all the paper work the previous week, and Liz would never send something like that through standard mail.

She wandered into her study, the wood paneled walls and closed blinds making it darker than it should have been, but it didn't faze her much. She sat down at her computer desk and switched on the small reading lamp, starting ripping open the letter, all patience vanishing.

After the poor envelope was completely destroyed (she didn't believe in letter openers, though she wasn't sure why—it was more like she'd just never bought one and had somehow developed a grudge against them), she was able to pull out the contents—another envelope and a letter from Liz. She squinted at the handwriting on the smaller envelope, but didn't recognize it. She sniffed and unfolded Liz's letter.

_Annie, I got this in the mail a few weeks ago and forgot to give it to you when you were in town. I've been meaning to send it, and I know you don't usually take fan mail, but I thought you might enjoy this one. _

_Liz._

Printed on her computer, no formal heading, no pleasantries. She smiled. That's why she liked Liz so much, better than her agent in England. Liz cut to the chase and didn't waste time on useless information.

She set to ripping open the other envelope and had to smile. It's not that she didn't enjoy fan mail, but she didn't have any need for it either. In the first place, there weren't that many people scrambling to get in touch with her (though Liz said that would all change once Hollywood got their hands on _The Shipping News_), and secondly, she was always a little uncomfortable reading other people reactions to her work, enjoyed talking about it more; discussion face to face felt more productive. She pulled out the letter from the envelope. It was several pages thick, but from the loopy style of the handwriting, she figured it wasn't because of context. She placed the letter under the light to read.

_Dear Ms. Proulx,_

_I don't know if this letter is going to get to you, the last time I tried to contact you, it didn't' work so well. But, it doesn't hurt to try, does it? _

_I won't go too deep into details here, won't bore you with my life story, though I'd bet a million dollars you'd find it pretty entertaining. That aside, let me get to the point. Almost a year ago, I bought a copy of Close Range from the local Childress Wal-Mart (yes, Ms. Proulx, I lived in Childress most my life). Anyway, I skimmed through parts of the book, but was mostly interested with a story at the end called, Brokeback Mountain. I'm sure you're familiar with this story, hell, you wrote it, and up till recently I'd wondered how you did just that. But the details of where you got your idea don't worry me too much these days, and that's not why I'm writing this letter to you._

_The real reason I'm writing today, is because reading that story, Brokeback Mountain, changed my life in the biggest and best way possible. Up till I found your book, I'd been in an unhappy marriage, an unhappy job, never felt fulfilled—I think you get the picture. That was all soon to change, though. Brokeback Mountain came along, and it took me a while to figure it out, but I realized that I was gay and had been living a lie. _

_And this is where I really want to thank you. If it hadn't been for your book, I'd still be living miserable in Childress, going day to day with no real satisfaction except what I got from my granddaughter, Eliza. I'd never of come to terms with myself, never gotten out of an unhealthy relationship, and I'd never of made amends with my son. Most importantly, I'd never have met the man I live with now, the light of my life._

_Ms. Proulx, your book has made me the happiest man alive, though I'm a little late to the party at 56 (soon to be 57, gulp) but I guess it's never too late to start, right? I'm sure you hear this sort of thing all the time, but you've never heard it from me, and there you go. A new experience. _

_So I just wanted to say thank you. I don't know how you did it, and I don't know what it all means, but I do know that Brokeback Mountain changed my life for the better, and because of that I will always be grateful._

_You don't know what you've done for me, and for Ennis. _

_Sincerely,_

_Jack Twist_

When she finished she flipped the letter over, looking for something more and finding nothing. She grabbed the envelope and searched for the return address. There was none, but the post office stamp said,

_Castle Rock, Colorado_

She was silent. Outside, the wind continued to whistle and howl, signs of a storm coming later in the day—the grass from a field beyond her window billowed and waved from the force of it. From the kitchen she could hear the faint buzz of the radio—they were playing an old Beatles tune. She smiled.

Annie Proulx opened the top drawer of her desk, the place she kept her most important documents and laid the letter face up on top of some old drafts of unpublished stories, placed an amethyst paper weight on top of it. She let her eyes run over the front page once more, committed the blue loops and scrawling hand to memory.

_"Let be, let be."_

She closed the drawer and stood up from her desk, pushed the chair in behind her and left the room.

* * *

Lead me to Your Door, a story by Jessica Leigh Phillips (Marakeshsparrow)

Author's note: _Six month ago I had the idea to write this crazy story after watching Being John Malkovitch. At the time I figured it was too crazy for Brokeback fans, that it would be disliked. I couldn't get the idea out of my head though, and I secretly wished I could tell someone what to write and how to do it so that I could read it--I knew I would get a kick out of such a Stephen King-esque fic. Well, I finally decided to tackle the beast, and friends, I am so glad I did. _

_This story has kept me going, has held me together through a rough period of time. I couldn't have written this story without the help of my dear mother though, my instant beta and my sounding board. Also I want to thank my duckling, Meredith for her help posting this story on and also for the wonderful plot bunny she gave me for chapter 21! And without all the wonderful responses from everyone who's read and enjoyed this story, it would be nothing, and maybe I would have abandoned it long ago. Thank you most of all for keeping me on track with your whips, sporks, and amulets. ;)_

_But above all, I think the thanks goes to Annie Proulx and Diana Ossana, Larry McMurtry and Ang Lee. They truly changed my life, and this whole story is an homage to them. Not only to the characters but infact to the effect Brokeback Mountain has had on its readers and viewers. Many of us will never be the same, and for that I am eternally grateful._

_Jess_


End file.
